THE 


WAY   TO   PEOSPER, 


IN  UNION  THLRE  IS  STRENGTH. 


AND  OTHER  TALES. 


BY  T.  S.  ARTHUR. 


BOSTON: 

L.  P.  CROWN  &  CO.,  61  CORNHILL. 
1853. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1851,  by 
T.  S.  ARTHUR, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States,  in 
and  for  the  Eastern  District  of  Pennsylvania. 


PREFACE. 


THE  purpose  of  the  Author  in  writing  this  book, 
has  been  to  show  the  power  of  virtue,  harmony,  and 
fraternal  affection  among  the  younger  members  of 
a  family,  in  securing  their  future  well-being  and 
prosperity.  "In  Union  there  is  Strength."  So 
trite  is  this  saying,  that  the  world  seems  almost  to 
have  forgotten  its  value,  or  no  longer  to  regard  it 
as  a  practical  principle.  The  old  man,  who,  as  the 
story  goes,  brought  to  his  children  a  bundle  of  sticks, 
understood  the  meaning  of  this  sentiment  fully. 
"Take,  my  sons,"  said,  he,  "each  of  you  a  stick  and 
break  it."  The  children  obeyed,  and  the  fragile 
rods  were  broken  in  their  hands  with  scarcely  an 
effort.  Then  he  gathered  the  sticks  together  into  a 
single  compact  bundle,  and  bade  them  try  again; 
but  union  had  given  strength  to  the  slender  branches, 
and  though  each  tried  with  his  utmost  power,  yet 
the  bundle  of  sticks  was  scarcely  bent,  much  less 

broken.     "  Let  it  be  thus  with  you  in  life,  my  child- 

5 

916  '• 


PKEFACE. 


ren,"  said  the  father.  "  Stand  close  together,  mu 
tually  sustaining  each  other,  and  you  need  have  no 
fear  of  those  who  are  against  you." 

The  tendency  of  what  is  opposite,  is  also  shown, 
by  a  contrast  of  character,  in  this  volume ;  so  that 
while  the  book  gives  motives  for  fraternal  union,  it 
pictures  the  sad  consequences  of  discord  in  families, 
and  shows  how  selfishness,  ill-nature,  and  disregard 
of  a  brother's  welfare,  are  evil  seeds  sown  in  early 
life,  to  yield,  in  after  years,  a  plentiful  harvest  of 
disappointment,  shame  and  misfortune. 


CHAPTER  I. 

TWD  bright  looking  boys,  each  in  his  fourteenth 
year,  stood  talking  one  afternoon,  a  little  before 
sundown,  at  a  point  where  two  roads  met.  Tho 
books  under  their  arms  showed  them  to  be  on  their 
way  from  school.  They  were  conversing  about  the 
future.  Both  were  sons  of  farmers  in  moderate 
circumstances;  and,  as  they  were  the  oldest,  it  came 
to  their  turn  first  to  leave  the  nest  of  home  and  go 
out  into  the  world. 

"Father  says,"  remarked  one  of  them,  whose 
name  was  Victor  Stevens,  "  that  I  ought  to  go  to 
school  a  year  longer.  But  I  think  I'm  old  enough 
to  get  my  own  living.  As  for  more  learning,  I  can 
gain  that  myself.  It  will  be  seven  years  before 
I'm  a  man,  and  in  that  time  I  can  study  a  good 
deal  and  not  neglect  any  work  I  may  have  to  do." 

"  My  father,"  said  the  other  boy,  named  Peter 
Close,  "  thinks  I've  had  enough  schooling.  He 
says  that  he  never  went  to  school  but  three  months 
in  his  life,  and  believes  that  one-half  the  boys  now- 
a-days,  are  ruined  by  too  much  learning.  When 
did  you  say  you  were  going  to  leave  school  ?" 

2b  (7) 


THE   WAY   TO   PROSPER. 


"  I  want  to  leave  at  the  end  of  this  quarter, 
though  I'm  afraid  father  wont  consent  to  it." 

"  It  will  be  up  in  three  weeks." 

"  I  know.  Mother  says  I  must  go  at  least  two 
quarters  more  ;  but,  I  think  I  can  get  father  over 
to  my  side." 

"Mother  says  I  shan't  go  to  Boston;  for  she 
knows  it  will  be  the  ruination  of  me,"  said  Peter. 
"  But  I  mean  to  go  there,  if  I  have  to  run  away. 
She  wants  to  put  me  to  Mr.  Joice,  the  carpenter. 
But  I  won't  be  a  carpenter." 

"  I  am  going  to  Boston  when  I  leave  school," 
remarked  Victor.  "  Father  and  mother  have  both 
agreed  to  that.  It  is  only  about  the  time  of  my 
leaving  home  that  there  is  any  difference,  but  this 
will  all  come  out  right.  They  are  older  than  I  am, 
and  know  best ;  and  if  they  still  think  I  ought  to  re 
main  at  school  awhile  longer,  I  will  try  to  be  con 
tented." 

The  two  lads  now  parted.  Victor  walked  along 
thoughtfully,  and  more  with  the  air  of  a  man  than 
a  boy.  He  had  two  brothers,  younger  than  himself, 
who  were  to  be  raised  and  educated.  Every  year 
the  family  was  becoming  more  expensive ;  and,  as 
the  income  from  the  little  farm  was  small,  and  his 
father  and  mother  had  to  work  very  hard,  he  felt 
that  it  was  not  right  for  him  to  burden  them  any 
longer.  He  had  already  said  so  at  home,  but  his 
parents  wished  him  still  to  go  to  school.  He  was 
too  young,  in  their  view,  to  pass  entirely  from  under 
their  protection,  away  into  a  great  city,  where 
temptations  were  spread  on  every  side  for  the  feet  of 
the  youthful  and  unwary.  Victor  thought  differently. 


THE  WAY  TO   PROSPER. 


"When  the  boy  arrived  at  home,  it  was  nearly  sun 
down.  A  man,  who  was  a  stranger  to  him,  parted 
with  his  father,  just  before  he  came  up,  and  rode 
away.  At  supper  time  Mr.  Stevens,  who  was 
usually  cheerful,  remained  silent  during  the  meal, 
and  ate  but  little.  Victor  noticed  this,  and,  as  he 
had  begun  to  observe  and  sympathize  with  his  father 
in  his  cares  and  burdens,  the  change  troubled  him, 
and  he  very  naturally  attributed  it  to  the  visit  of 
the  stranger. 

"  Who  was  that  man  I  met  at  the  gate  ?"  inquired 
the  lad,  as  soon  as  he  was  alone  with  his  mother 
after  supper. 

The  question  caused  a  shade  to  fall  over  the 
countenance  of  Mrs.  Stevens.  She  replied  to  the 
question : 

"  Two  years  ago,  you  remember  that  we  lost  all 
our  stock.  A  disease  broke  out  among  them,  and 
carried  off  three  valuable  horses,  two  cows  and 
thirty  sheep." 

The  boy  remembered  the  circumstance  very  well. 

"  In  -order  to  get  stock  again,  your  father  had  to 
borrow  two  hundred  dollars,  for  which  he  gave  a 
mortgage  on  his  farm  ?  That  is,  he  gave  the  man 
from  whom  the  money  was  borrowed  the  right  to 
sell  the  farm  and  pay  himself  if  he  could  not  obtain 
his  money  in  any  other  way.  Up  to  this  time  the 
mortgage  has  remained,  your  father  not  having 
been  able  to  pay  off  any  part  of  it.  The  man  you 
saw  is  the  one  from  whom  the  money  was  bor 
rowed." 

"And  does  he  want  it  paid  back?"  asked  Vic 
tor. 


10  THE  WAT  TO   PROSPER. 

"  Yes,  my  son.  It  was  to  say  this  to  your  father 
that  he  called.  But  ihe  expense  of  our  large  family 
has  been  so  great  that  we  have  not  saved  anything. 
I  don't  know  what  we  will  do.  Your  father  is  very 
much  troubled." 

"  Will  the  man  sell  the  farm  ?"  asked  Victor,  who 
felt  deeply  interested  in  what  he  heard,  and  fully 
comprehended  the  unhappy  position  of  his  father. 

"  I  hope  not.  He  is  not  a  selfish  man.  But  he 
is  in  want  of  money.  Your  father  thought  when 
he  borrowed  it,  that  at  least  one  half  could  be  re 
turned  in  a  year  ;  but  two  years  have  rolled  away 
and  not  a  dollar  has  been  paid  on  the  debt." 

"  And  every  day  father's  expenses  are  growing 
heavier,"  said  Victor,  in  his  thoughtful,  serious 
way. 

"  Yes — that  is  just  the  truth.  I  don't  know  what 
we  are  going  to  do." 

Mrs.  Stevens  spoke  in  a  desponding  voice.  The 
entrance  of  some  one  at  the  moment  broke  off  the 
conversation.  It  made  a  strong  impression  on  the 
mind  of  the  boy.  All  his  liveliest  sympathies  were 
awakened  for  his  father,  whom  he  saw  staggering 
along  under  burdens  that  were  almost  too  heavy  to 
be  borne.  He  lay  awake  for  hours  after  going  to 
bed,  thinking  about  what  he  had  heard,  and  musing 
over  plans  for  the  future.  On  the  next  morning, 
when  he  came  down  from  his  room,  he  saw  his  father 
in  the  little  path  that  ran  by  the  door,  walking 
backwards  and  forwards,  with  his  hands  behind  him 
and  his  eyes  upon  the  ground.  After  reflecting  for 
some  moments,  the  boy  went  out  and  joined  him, 
saying  as  he  did  so — 


THE   WAT  TO   PROSPER.  11 

"  I  think,  father,  you'd  better  let  me  leave  school 
at  the  end  of  the  quarter,  and  go  to  a  trade,  I'm 
old  enough  now  to  earn  my  own  living,  and  I'd  rather 
do  it." 

Mr.  Stevens  continued  to  pace  backwards  and 
forwards,  Victor  now  walking  by  his  side,  but 
without  replying  for  some  time. 

"  You're  young,  Victor,"  he  at  length  said, 
breathing  heavily  as  he  spoke.  "  Too  young  to  go 
out  alone  into  the  world.  I  did  hope  t#>  keep  you 
at  home  a  year  longer  and  let  you  go  to  school ; 
but—" 

The  father's  voice  failed  a  little,  and  he  checked 
his  utterance.  In  a  moment  he  recovered  his  self- 
control,  and  finished  what  he  had  meant  to  say. 

"  But  the  family  is  so  expensive." 

"I'm  plenty  old  enough,  father,"  answered  the 
boy,  in  a  cheerful,  confident  tone.  "  You  know  I'll 
be  fourteen  next  October ;  and  it's  time  I  was 
earning  my  own  living.  I've  had  a  good  deal  of 
schooling — my  share,  I  think.  The  others  must 
have  their  part,  and  if  they  can  all  get  as  much  as 
I've  received,  they'll  do  very  well.  In  a  little  over 
seven  years,  I  will  be  free,  and  can  earn  money  and 
help  you  to  take  care  of  the  other  children." 

Mr.  Stevens  was  touched  by  the  generous  inde 
pendence  of  his  boy ;  and,  after  reflecting  for  some 
time,  said : — 

"  It  shall  be  as  you  wish,  Victor.  But  I  am 
afraid  you  will  find  the  trial  of  living  away  from 
home  a  far  more  serious  one  than  you  imagine. 
Boys  who  go  into  the  city  as  apprentices  have  never 
a  very  easy  time  of  it." 


12  THE  WAY  TO   PROSPER. 

"I  know  all  that,  father.'  But,  I  must  have  a 
trade ;  and  if  some  hardship  has  to  be  endured  in 
order  to  get  it,  I  will  not  complain.  Many  a  boy, 
much  younger  than  I  am,  has  had  to  go  away  from 
home." 

"What  trade  would  you  like  to  learn?"  asked 
Mr.  Stevens.  "  Have  you  thought  about  that  ?" 

"  Henry  Lewis,  who  left  home  last  winter,  is 
learning  to  be  a  printer.  I  talked  to  him  when  he 
was  up  in  May,  and  he  said  he  liked^the  trade  very 
well.  He  gets  his  board,  and  thirty  dollars  a  year 
for  clothes.  Isn't  that  very  good  ?" 

"Thirty  dollars  a  year  won't  buy  very  nice 
clothes,  particularly  when  he  gets  to  be  eighteen 
or  twenty  years  old." 

"  But  he'll  be  free,  you  know,  at  twenty-one, 
and  then  he  can  earn  a  great  deal  more.  He  says 
that  the  foreman  in  the  office  gets  twelve  dollars  a 
week,  and  that  most  of  the  journeymen  earn  from 
nine  to  ten  dollars." 

"  Very  fair  wages.  A  prudent  young  man  could 
lay  up  money.  You  think  you  would  like  to  be  a 
printer  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir.  I  don't  think  I  could  learn  anything 
better.  I  did  think  I  would  be  a  carpenter,  but 
Edward  Jones,  who  is  apprenticed  to  Mr.  Joice, 
says  it  is  very  hard  work,  and  you're  exposed  a  great 
deal." 

"  I  would  rather  have  you  learn  the  printing 
business — I  have  an  old  friend  in  Boston,  who 
carries  it  on  ;  and  if  he  does  not  want  a  boy  himself, 
he  can  direct  you  to  some  good  office." 

"  You  mean  Mr.  Preston?" 


THE  WAY  TO   PROSPER.  13 

"Yes.  He's  a  very  correct  man,  and  win  do 
right  by  you,  if  you  go  into  his  establishment." 

The  question  of  leaving  school  was  settled  from 
that  hour.  The  pressure  of  circumstances  forced 
from  Mr.  Stevens  a  reluctant  consent  to  let  his  boy 
go  out  from  under  his  roof  at  so  tender  an  age,  and 
seek  his  fortune  alone  in  a  large  city.  The  mother 
no  longer  objected.  The  call  for  the  payment  of 
the  mortgage  had  made  both  parents  feel  the  stern 
necessity  that  existed  for  a  lighter  range  of  expenses, 
and  the  only  mode  of  securing  this,  that  presented 
itself,  was  that  proposed  by  Victor. 

"  It's  all  settled,"  said  Victor,  with  animation, 
when  he  met  Peter  Close  next  morning  on  his  way 
to  school. 

"  What's  settled  ?"  asked  Peter. 

"  That  I'm  to  go  to  Boston  and  learn  a  trade  as 
soon  as  the  quarter  is  up." 

"  And  I'm  going,  too,"  said  Peter.  "  I  asked 
father  last  night,  and  he  said  I  could  go.  Mother 
don't  like  it ;  but  father's  willing,  and  that  settles 
it  all.  You're  going  to  be  a  printer  ?" 

"  Yes.     What  trade  will  you  learn  ?" 

"  The  same." 

"  Then  suppose  we  go  together  and  try  and  get 
into  one  office.  We'll  be  company  for  each  other." 

"  Oh  !  I'd  like  that  very  much,"  replied  Peter. 

"  So  would  I,"  returned  Victor.  "  Father  knows 
Mr.  Preston,  who  has  a  printing  office,  and  he's 
going  to  see  if  he  won't  take  me  as  an  apprentice." 

"  I  wish  he  would  ask  him  to  take  me,  too.  When 
do  you  mean  to  leave  for  the  city  ?" 

"  In  about  a  month.     Mother  will  make  me  some 


14  THE   WAY  TO   PROSPER. 

new  clothes,  and  get  all  ready,  so  that  I  can  start 
pretty  soon  after  this  quarter  is  up.  I  feel  a  little 
bad  about  going,  when  I  think  of  it,  now  that  all  is 
settled.  But  this  don't  matter.  Other  boys  have 
had  to  leave  home,  and  I  must  do  the  same.  If  I 
don't  learn  a  trade,  I  won't  be  able  to  support  myself, 
and  help  father  when  I  get  to  be  a  man." 

"  Help  your  father !  what  for  ?"  asked  Peter, 
rather  surprised  at  the  last  remark,  which  he  did 
not  at  all  comprehend.  "  Your  father  don't  want 
any  of  your  help,  does  he  ?" 

"  He  has  to  work  very  hard,  and  he  will  be  get 
ting  old  by  that  time." 

"  So  does  my  father  have  to  work  hard,  but  he 
does  not  want  me  to  help  him." 

"  No,  nor  does  my  father.  But  he's  worked  for 
me,  and  I'm  sure  I  shall  be  very  glad  to  work  for 
him  when  I  am  able." 

Peter  could  not  comprehend  this.  Sympathy  for 
his  parents  had  never  been  awakened  in  his  mind, 
for  the  spirit  of  his  home  circle  was  not  that  of  con 
cord  and  mutual  kindness  ;  but,  rather  the  opposite. 
Mr.  Close  felt  the  pressure  of  hard  labor  and  a 
scanty  income,  and  it  fretted  his  mind,  producing 
moroseness,  and  often  ill  temper.  His  wife  did  not 
possess,  naturally,  a  very  amiable  disposition,  and 
there  had  been  little  in  the  married  life  to  soften 
and  ameliorate  her  character.  Between  the  chil 
dren,  there  was  little  harmony  of  feeling ;  the 
younger  were  exacting,  and  the  older  tyrannical. 
When  they  were  together,  instead  of  mutual  kind 
ness,  and  good  offices,  it  was  a  continued  scene  of 
discord.  In  consequence  of  all  this,  there  was  little 


THE   WAY  TO   PROSPER.  15 

in  the  home  of  Peter  that  drew  upon  his  affections, 
or  created  a  desire  to  remain  in  it  as  long  as  possi 
ble.  For  his  father  he  had  but  a  small  share  of 
affection.  Mr.  Close  was  not  a  man  to  inspire  a  very 
strong  filial  regard.  He  entered  into  no  pleasant, 
familiar  intercourse  with  his  children,  and  rarely 
spoke  to  them  unless  it  was  in  language  of  reproof. 
It  is  not  a  matter  of  surprise  that  Peter  felt  no 
sympathy  for  him.  In  fact,  he  knew  little  about 
his  external  circumstances,  and  cared  less,  so  that 
he  obtained  food  when  he  was  hungry  and  clothes 
to  keep  him  warm.  He  had  two  brothers,  their 
names  were  William  and  Francis. 

Very  different  from  the  family  of  Mr.  Close  was 
that  of  Mr.  Stevens — different  in  almost  everything. 
The  parents  loved  their  children  with  an  affection 
that  looked  to  their  future  as  well  as  their  present 
good.  They  were  fully  aware  of  the  great  import 
ance  of  an  early  right  training  and  development  of 
character,  and  had  striven  from  the  first  to  prevent 
discord,  and  produce  harmony  in  their  family  circle. 
Victor,  the  oldest,  was  early  taught  to  feel  an  in 
terest  in  and  to  sympathize  with  his  younger  bro 
thers,  in  all  their  wants  and  pleasures ;  and  they 
were  never  permitted  to  encroach  upon  his  rights. 
Almost  the  first  lesson  given  to  these  children  by 
their  parents,  was  that  of  mutual  respect  and  re 
gard  ;  and  they  checked  instantly  even  the  smallest 
departure  from  "its  practice.  In  all  their  little  em 
ployments  they  were  taught  to  help  one  another. 
An  emulation  in  kind  offices  was  the  natural  result ; 
and  a  beautiful  harmony  was  introduced  into  tho 
family  circle.  This  was  not  so  easy  a  work  to  do. 

3 


16  THE  WAY  TO   PROSPER. 

The  natural  selfishness  of  the  heart  early  manifests 
itself  among  children,  in  a  violation  of  each  other's 
rights ;  and  unless  parents  exercise  a  most  judicious 
control,  they  will  grow  up  with  certain  feelings  of 
dislike  which  will  turn  them  away  from  each  other 
when  they  become  men  and  women.  Family  con 
cord  is  a  great  achievement ;  but  will  not  come 
unless  parents  love  their  children  with  an  unselfish 
affection,  and  guard  and  guide  their  moral  develop 
ment  with  even  a  greater  care  than  is  bestowed 
upon  their  intellectual  training  and  culture. 

Mr.  Stevens  had  three  children.  Victor,  the 
oldest,  in  his  fourteenth  year  ;  Hartley  in  his 
twelfth,  and  Thomas  in  his  eighth  year.  These 
children  would  play  together  for  hours,  without 
jarring  a  discordant  string ;  while  the  children 
of  Mr.  Close  could  hardly  pass  each  other  without 
indulging  in  angry  words.  If  the  latter  attempted 
any  play,  it  was  generally  broken  up  in  less  than 
five  minutes,  and,  usually,  because  the  younger  ones 
rebelled  against  the  oppressive  and  exacting  tyranny 
of  Peter.  If  he  was  away,  the  next  oldest  took  his 
place  as  leader  and  oppressor,  and  so  the  everlasting 
din  of  strife  was  kept  up  day  after  day  and  from 
month  to  month.  Fretted  by  all  this,  the  parents 
scolded  and  punished ;  but  with  no  good  effect.  The 
evil  had  taken  too  deep  a  root,  and  was  growing 
with  the  growth  and  strengthening  with  the  strength 
of  their  offspring.  Instead  of  a  bond  of  union, 
there  was  internal  repulsion,  waiting  but  the  free 
dom  of  mature  age  to  drive  them  asunder  in  the 
world,  each  taking  his  own  way  in  total  disregard 
of  the  other. 


' 

THE    WAY  TO    PROSPER.  17 

The  opposite  of  all  this,  as  we  have  intimated, 
Distinguished  the  family  of  Mr.  Stevens.  Victor, 
whose  thoughts  for  nearly  a  year  had  been  reach 
ing  forward  and  meditating  on  the  future,  never 
formed  a  picture  of  success  in  his  mind  in  which 
he  made  anything  more  than  a  part  of  the  family 
group.  The  first  desire  he  had,  was  to  assist  his 
father,  and  the  only  way  he  could  do  this  in  the 
present,  was  to  relieve  him  of  the  burden  of  his 
support ;  and  his  next  desire  was,  to  aid,  direct,  and 
counsel  his  younger  brothers  as  they  should  sever 
ally  leave  home  and  go  out  into  the  world  as  he 
was  about  going.  lie  never  thought  of  himself 
alone.  Conscious  of  a  native  energy,  and  strong 
in  his  purpose  to  do  his  part  on  the  arena  of  life, 
he  was  not  troubled  with  doubts  as  to  his  own  ability 
to  get  along.  He  thought,  rather,  of  helping  those 
who  had  helped  him,  and  of  those  younger  and 
weaker  than  himself  who  might  need  his  hand  to 
support  them  in  the  way. 

Beyond  himself,  on  the  contrary,  no  thought  of 
Peter  Close  wandered.  He  wished  to  leave  home, 
because  he  imagined  he  would  have  more  freedom 
and  comfort  as  an  apprentice  in  the  city  than  he 
now  enjoyed.  Without  any  true  affection  for  his 
brothers  and  sister,  or  even  for  his  parents,  a  se 
paration  from  them  had  in  the  idea  nothing  pain 
ful;  but,  if  the  truth  must  be  told,  something 
pleasant. 

Here,  then,  are  two  families,  and  the  oldest  son 
of  each  about  leaving  home  to  make  his  entrance 
into  the  world.  So  for  as  external  things  are  con 
cerned,  the  prospects  of  these  two  families,  and  of 

P'M  •  ••••'•• 


18  THE   WAY   TO    PROSPER. 

these  two  boys,  are  equal ;  but,  how  unequal,  when 
internal  things  are  considered  ! 

The  principle  of  strength  in  union  governed  in 
the  one  case;  while  inordinate  selfishness  produced 
a  feeling  of  repulsion  in  the  other. 


CHAPTER  H. 

"Do  not  forget,  my  son,"  said  Mrs.  Stevens  to 
Victor,  on  the  eve  of  his  departure  for  Boston, 
"your  brothers  at  home.  You  are  the  oldest  and 
go  out  first,  and  it  will  be  in  your  power,  I  trust, 
to  make  their  paths  into  the  world  smoother  than 
if  you  had  not  gone  before.  You  have  had  advan 
tages  which  they  may  not  possess.  Your  father's 
health  may  fail,  or,  he  may  die  before  they  are  as 
old  as  you  now  are,  and  be  compelled  to  leave  home 
at  a  tenderer  age.  Feel  then,  my  son,  that  to  a 
certain  extent,  their  well-being  in  life  depends  on 
you.  Success  in  the  world  is  not  so  easy  a  thing, 
as  you,  in  the  ardor  of  your  young  hopes,  may 
imagine.  Men  do  not  seek  alone  to  build  them 
selves  up :  too  many,  alas !  strive  to  pull  others 
down  that  they  may  rise  on  the  ruins  occasioned  by 
their  fall.  You  may,  standing  alone,  secure  success 
for  yourself;  but  the  result  will  be  far  more  certain 
if  you  seek  a  union  with  your  brothers  as  they  come 
forward  in  life.  You  have  certain  qualities  of  mind 
requisite  to  a  prosperous  effort  in  the  world,  and 
Hartley  has  certain  other  qualities,  equally  neces- 


THE   WAY   TO   PROSPER.  19 


sary.  He  will  be  a  man  soon  after  you  come  of  age, 
and  if  you  then  unite  your  interests,  mutual  good 
will  be  the  result.  Alone,  either  or  both  of  you 
might  fail  in  your  efforts,  but  together  there  will  be 
little  danger  of  this.  .By  the  time  your  brother 
Thomas  is  old  enough  to  take  his  place  in  the  world, 
you  and  Hartley  will  be  able  to  extend  to  him  a 
firm  hand.  In  union  there  is  strength,  Victor.  If 
you  all  band  yourselves  together,  each  bringing 
into  effect  his  own  peculiar  ability,  as  if  you  were 
one  man,  you  will  all  prosper.  To  care  for  your 
brothers  and  to  seek  their  good,  may  keep  you  back 
a  little ;  but  when  all  are  grown  up,  and  you  stand, 
side  by  side  with  a  single  purpose,  you  need  not 
fear  the  pressure  of  adverse  circumstances." 

These  words  of  his  mother  imbedded  themselves 
in  the  mind  of  Victor.  He  felt  their  force  and  re 
solved  that  he  would  never  think  so  much  of  his 
own  success  as  to  make  him  forget  that  of  his 
brothers. 

Mr.  Stevens  had  already  written  to  his  old  friend 
Mark  Preston,  who  was  a  master  printer  in  Boston, 
and  the  latter  had  agreed  to  give  Victor  a  trial. 
If  this  proved  satisfactory  to  both  parties,  he  was 
to  take  the  boy  as  an  apprentice ;  making  him  an 
allowance  of  a  certain  sum  weekly  to  pay  for  his 
boarding,  and  thirty  dollars  a  year  with  which  to 
purchase  clothes.  If  the  parents  of  Victor  had 
been  living  in  Boston,  an  arrangement  like  this 
would  have  been  agreeable  enough,  but  as  the  boy 
had  not  a  friend,  acquaintance,  nor  adviser  in  the 
city,  his  new  position  was  to  be  one  of  care,  respon 
sibility,  and  danger.  A  cheap  boarding  house,  in  a 

3b 


20  THE   WAY   TO   PROSPER. 

place  like  Boston  or  New  York,  is  not  the  safest 
home  for  a  lad  of  fourteen  or  fifteen  years  of  age. 
This  was  sensibly  felt  by  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Stevens, 
but  confiding  in  the  principles  of  their  boy,  and 
committing  him  to  the  care  of  the  Divine  Provi 
dence  they  gave  him  their  blessing  and  let  him 
depart. 

Alone,  and  without  shrinking,  that  brave-hearted 
boy  started  for  the  great  city,  with  the  world  be 
fore  him.  On  arriving  he  was  received  kindly  by 
Mr.  Preston,  who,  from  the  moment  he  saw  him, 
made  up  his  mind  that  he  would  give  every  satis 
faction. 

"You  think,  then,  that  you  would  like  to  be  a 
printer,  Victor?"  said  Mr.  Preston,  on  receiving 
the  lad  in  his  little  office,  where  he  sat  almost  bu 
ried  among  books  and  old  papers. 

"Yes,  sir,"  was  the  firm  reply. 

"  It's  a  very  good  trade :  but  hard  to  learn.  That 
is,  the  boy  who  learns  it  has  for  the  first  year  or 
two  a  pretty  hard  time  of  it." 

"Other  boys  have  learned  the  trade,"  was  the 
simple  remark  of  Victor  to  this. 

"That's  true  enough  my  lad;  and  so  can  you.  A 
little  hardship  in  youth  is  what  makes  men  of  us." 

This  forewarning  on  the  part  of  the  master  prin 
ter,  did  not  give  Victor  even  the  most  distant  con 
ception  of  what  he  was  about  to  encounter.  He 
did  not  receive  his  first  lesson  until  the  next  morn 
ing.  It  was  already  past  noon  and  Mr.  Preston, 
after  taking  him  to  a  boarding  house,  where  two  of 
his  boys  were  living,  told  him  that  he  might  look 


THE  WAY   TO    PROSPER.  21 

about  the  city  until  evening,  but,  to  be  sure  to  be 
at  the  office  bright  and  early  on  the  next  day. 

Victor  did  not  sleep  very  soundly  that  night. 
Everything  was  new  around  him,  and,  moreover,  a 
little  different  from  what  he  had  anticipated.  The 
printing  office,  at  which  he  had  taken  a  glance,  did 
not  look  very  attractive,  and  the  people  at  his  board 
ing  house  were  not  particularly  after  his  liking. 
How  different  was  the  woman  who  governed  in  this 
new  home  from  his  own  mother.  There  was  scarce 
ly  a  sign  of  gentle  feeling  in  a  feature  of  her  vul 
gar  face.  There  were  ten  boarders  in  the  house, 
all  mechanics,  and  among  them  three  journeymen 
and  two  boys  working  in  Mr.  Preston's  office.  By 
these,  when  introduced  to  them,  at  the  supper  table, 
he  was  received  with  a  rude  familiarity  that  he  felt 
as  exceedingly  repulsive.  Moreover,  the  conversa 
tion  which  was  occasioned  by  his  presence  was  far 
from  being  agreeable. 

"  So  this  is  Preston's  new  devil! "  said  one  of  the 
men,  with  a  laugh ;  and  all  eyes  were  upon  the  lad. 

"Rather  a  green  looking  devil,"  said  another, 
in  a  half  undertone,  yet  loud  enough  for  all  to  hear. 

"He's  just  from  among  the  peas  and  cabbages. 
But  he'll  not  be  green  long,  I  take  it,"  was  the 
shrewd  remark  of  one  who  had  looked  closely  into 
the  lad's  face. 

"He'd  better  have  staid  among  the  peas  and 
cabbages,"  said  a  man  named  Perkins,  who  was  a 
journeyman  printer  in  the  office  of  Mark  Preston. 
This  was  spoken  with  evident  ill-nature. 

"  Why  so  ?  "  asked  one  of  the  boarders. 

"  Because,  there  are  more  at  printing  now  than 


22  THE   WAY   TO    PROSPER. 

can  earn  their  salt.  Every  year  it's  growing  worst' 
and  worse.  The  offices  are  all  filling  up  with  hoys 
who  are  pushing  out  the  journeymen.  What  they 
are  all  to  do  when  free,  is  more  than  I  can  tell. 
Books  are  a  drug  in  the  market.  The  business  has 
been  overdone." 

"  That's  true  in  almost  every  business,"  replied 
another  to  this.  "  It's  true  in  our  business.  Every 
master-workman  is  crowding  in  apprentices,  who, 
in  a  few  years,  crowd  out  the  journeymen.  I  feel 
angry  whenever  I  see  a  boy  come  into  our  shop. 
I  wish  it  were  only  here  as  it  is  in  England,  where  a 
handsome  fee  has  to  be  paid  before  a  boy  can  be 
entered  for  a  trade.  We  would  not  have  so  many 
cabbage-heads  poured  in  upon  us  from  every  town 
and  village  within  sixty  miles  around  to  take  in  a 
few  years  the  bread  out  of  our  mouths." 

"  Just  my  opinion,  '  said  another,  turning  his 
eyes  with  a  scowl  upon  Victor  as  he  spoke.  "  If 
I  had  my  will,  I'd  pass  a  law  prohibiting  any 
master  workman  from  having  more  than  two  ap 
prentices." 

"  So  would  I,"  and 

"  So  would  I,"  ran  round  the  table. 

"  It's  all  very  well  for  you  to  talk  now,"  said  the 
landlady  to  this — she  had  three  sons  all  learning 
trades  :  "  but  you  sung  to  a  different  tune  when  you 
were  boys." 

"  I've  no  objection  to  city  boys  learning  trades," 
was  answered  to  this. — "  I  expect  mine  to  do  so. 
But  to  have  six  or  seven  hundred  country  clod-hop 
pers  thrusting  themselves  in,  each  year,  to  the  ruina 


THE   WAY   TO    PROSPER.          .  23 

tion  of  everything,  is  more  than  I  can  stand — and 
more  than  I  will  stand." 

"  I  rather  think  you're  not  going  to  lie  on  a  bed 
of  roses  during  your  devilship,"  remarked  one 
who  sat  near  Victor,  addressing  the  lad  in  a  kind 
voice. 

"  He  may  take  my  word  for  that,"  said  Perkins, 
one  of  Preston's  journeymen,  with  an  angry  glance 
at  the  lad. 

"  He'd  better  go  and  hang  himself  at  once,"  waa 
the  encouraging  words  of  another. 

"  He'd  better  go  back  to  the  country  and  learn 
to  be  a  farmer,"  said  Perkins.  "  Then  he  will  have 
something  before  him  a  little  better  than  starvation. 
Two-thirds  of  tlie  boys  now  learning  trades  will  not 
be  able  to  get  a  hand's  turn  to  bless  them,  after 
their  times  are  up." 

"  I  guess  they'll  manage  to  live,"  remarked  one 
who  had  not  joined  in  the  conversation,  and  who 
disapproved  of  the  kind  of  reception  given  to  the 
strange  boy,  as  well  as  the  sentiments  expressed. 
"  Every  new  comer  makes  new  wants." 

"  0  yes  ;  you  can  talk,"  was  the  half-angry  and 
insulting  reply  of  Perkins. 

The  man  did  not  choose  to  enter  into  a  contro 
versy  with  such  antagonists  as  were  around  him, 
having  had  some  experience  on  the  subject,  and 
therefore  remained  silent.  But  he  felt  sympathy 
for  the  lad,  and  made  up  his  mind  to  encourage 
him  in  his  new  and  trying  position  when  the  oppor 
tunity  offered.  His  name  was  Franklin. 

After  supper,  one  of  the  lads  apprenticed  to  Mr. 
Preston,  named  Thomas  Lee,  showed  a  friendly  dis- 


I 
24  THE  WAY  TO    PROSPER. 

position  towards  Victor,  and  entered  into  conversa 
tion  with  him. 

"  Where  are  you  going  to-night  ?"  he  inquired. 

"No  where,"  Victor  replied. 

"  You're  not  going  to  sit  moping  here  until  bed 
time  ?" 

"  I  don't  know  any  body  in  Boston." 

"  Have  you  any  money  ?" 

"  Only  a  quarter." 

"  That'll  do.  I'm  going  to  the  theatre.  Won't 
you  come  along  ?" 

Against  the  theatre  both  the  father  and  mother 
of  Victor  had  particularly  cautioned  him  as  the 
high  way  to  ruin.  He  therefore  replied  with  great 
promptness, 

"  No,  I  can't  go." 

"  Why  ?"  asked  the  boy. 

"  My  father  and  mother  don't  wish  me  to  go." 

This  was  met  by  a  hearty  laugh  of  ridicule,  in 
which  two  or  three  others,  who  had  heard  what  had 
passed  between  the  two  boys,  joined. 

"  He'll  soon  get  over  that,"  remarked  one  of  the 
men,  who  had  been  at  the  supper  table,  shrugging 
his  shoulders. 

"Very  right,  my  boy,"  said  the  man  named 
Franklin,  speaking  to  Victor,  as  soon  as  the  others 
had  retired.  "  Keep  ever  in  mind  the  counsel  of 
your  father  and  mother.  The  theatre  is  a  very 
bad  place  for  boys,  and  few  lads  ever  come  to  much 
good  who  habitually  go  there.  Keep  your  money 
for  a  better  purpose  ;  you  will  have  use  for  it.  And 
you  must  not  mind  what  all  these  people  say  to 
you.  Be  honest,  industrious  and  prudent,  and  you 


..w* 

THE   WAY   TO   PROSPER.  25 


will  do  well  enough.  If  things  are  a  little  hard 
at  first,  don't  feel  discouraged.  Others  have  passed 
through  them  before.  It  will  not  last  forever. 

Victor  was  more  grateful  for  these  timely  and 
encouraging  words  than  he  could  express. 

The  kind  of  company  into  which  he  had  fallen, 
and  the  manner  in  which  he  was  received,  proved 
so  different  from  any  thing  he  had  imagined,  as 
utterly  to  confound  him.  The  well-timed  words  of 
approval  and  encouragement  spoken  by  Mr.  Frank 
lin,  came  just  at  the  right  moment  and  restored  the 
trembling  balance  of  his  feelings.  At  an  early 
hour  he  retired  to  bed,  and  lay  awake  for  a  long 
time,  thinking  over  his  first  few  experiences  in  city 
life.  He  then  dropped  off  to  sleep,  and  did  not 
wake  until  the  sun  was  shining  in  at  the  window  of 
his  chamber  in  the  attic. 


26  THE    WAY   TO    PROSPER. 


CHAPTER  III. 

REMEMBERING  the  injunction  of  Mr.  Preston  to 
be  at  the  office  hright  and  early,  Victor  arose  as 
soon  as  he  awakened,  and  forthwith  repaired  to 
the  place  where  unknown  and  undreamed  of  trials 
awaited  him.  As  he  entered  the  printing  office 
about  six  o'clock,  he  was  met  bj  Perkins,  the  jour 
neyman  before  mentioned. 

"  Pretty  time  of  day  this  to  come  to  work  !"  said 
that  ill-natured  personage.  "  I  thought  country 
boys  were  used  to  being  up  with  the  lark.  Take 
that  bucket  and  go  and  get  some  water. 

"Where  from?"  asked  Victor. 

"From  the  pump.  Do  you  think  there  are 
springs  bubbling  up  in  the  city  ?" 

"  Where  is  the  pump  ?"  inquired  the  boy,  lifting 
the  bucket,  and  standing  with  a  look  of  inquiry  on 
his  face. 

"  Round  the  corner.  There  now  !  Be  off  with 
you  !  Why  do  you  stand  gaping  like  a  sheep  ?" 

Victor  left  the  office  with  the  bucket  in  his  hand, 
and  went  to  the  nearest  corner  ;  but  saw  no  pump. 
He  came  back,  passed  the  office,  and  went  round 
the  corner  next  beyond,  where  he  found  the  object 
of  his  search.  Filling  his  bucket  he  returned  as 
quickly  as  possible,  and  was  greeted  by'  Perkins, 
with — 


*  • 


THE  WAY   TO   PROSPER.  29 

"  Why  didn't  you  stay  all  day  ?" 

"  I  went  round  the  wrong  corner,"  said  Victor. 

"You  must  be  a  stupid  fellow.  But  don't  stand 
moping  there.  Go  and  sweep  out  the  office.  You'll 
find  a  brush  in  the  press  room." 

Victor  didn't  know  where  to  find  the  press  room, 
but  he  started  toward  an  open  door,  and  was  for 
tunate  enough  to  go  right,  and  to  find  the  brush. 
Coming  back  into  the  room  he  had  first  entered,  he 
commenced  sweeping ;  but  had  only  made  a  few 
strokes  with  the  brush  when  his  persecutor  cried 
out,  with  an  oath — 

"What  do  you  mean,  you  young  vagabond! 
Why  don't  you  sprinkle  the  floor  ?  Do  you  want 
to  choke  us  all  to  death  ?" 

Just  at  this  moment,  Mr.  Preston  entered.  He 
cast  upon  Perkins  a  look  of  rebuke,  which  produced 
an  instant  change  in  that  personage,  who  cowered 
away,  and  went  off  into  the  press  room. 

"  Where  is  Edward  ?"  asked  Mr.  Preston. 

"  Up  stairs,"  was  answered. 

"  Go  and  call  him  down." 

Edward  was  called. 

"  I  don't  want  you  to  give  up  quite  so  soon,"  said 
Mr.  Preston,  when  the  lad  appeared.  "  You  can 
go  on  as  usual  for  two  or  three  days, 'until  Victor 
begins  to  understand  a  little  about  the  place," 

The  boy  thus  addressed  filled  a  basin  with  water, 
and  commenced  sprinkling  the  floor  by  dashing  it 
over  the  side  of  the  basin  with  his  hand. 

"  There  is  another  brush  in  the  press  room,"  said 
Mr.  Preston,  addressing  Victor.    "  Get  it,  and  help 
Edward  to  sweep  out  the  office.     After,  a  day  or 
4 


30  THE  WAT  TO   PROSPER. 

two  I  will  want  you  to  do  this  every  morning  your 
self." 

Victor  got  the  other  brush  and  went  to  work  as 
directed.  The  press  room,  composing  room,Nand 
office  were  all  swept  out,  and  various  other  things 
done,  when  the  hour  for  breakfast  came.  After 
returning  from  this  meal,  Victor  was  sent  with  a 
proof  to  a  bookseller.  When  he  came  back  he  was 
set  to  work  removing  sheets  from  the  press  ;  and 
after  the  boards  had  been  emptied,  others  were  put 
in  their  places.  Plenty  was  found  for  him  to  do 
until  dinner  time ;  and  among  other  things,  he  was 
called  upon  to  "  to  run  the  mail,"  or,  in  other  words, 
to  bring  liquor  for  the  journeymen.  After  dinner 
he  was  kept  as  busy  until  night  fall,  when  he 
went  home  to  his  boarding  house,  so  tired  that 
he  could  hardly  drag  himself  along.  He  was  not 
only  tired,  but,  to  a  certain  extent,  disheartened ; 
for  scarcely  a  kind  word  had  been  spoken  to  him 
since  morning,  except  by  Mr.  Preston.  The  jour 
neymen  ordered  him  about  in  a  tone  of  rough  and 
insulting  command,  and  one  or  two  of  the  boys, 
seeing  in  him  a  good  subject,  made  him  a  butt  of 
ridicule.  All  this  Victor  bore  without  manifesting 
resentment.  He  was  rather  hurt  than  angry  by  the 
unkindness. 

After  supper,  Mr.  Franklin  spoke  again  en 
couragingly  to  him.  He  also  warned  him  of  the 
many  dangers  that  were  in  his  way,  and  urged  him, 
as  he  valued  his  success  and  well  being  as  a  man, 
to  avoid  yielding,  even  in  the  smallest  degree,  when 
temptations  presented  themselves.  All  this  strength 
ened  the  heart  of  the  lad,  and,  when  he  laid  his  head 


THE    WAY   TO    PROSPER.  ol 


upon  his  pillow,  lie  was  less  unhappy  than  on  the 
night  before.  A  tired  body  brought  a  sound  repose. 
Rising  with  the  first  beams  of  the  sun  he  hurried  to 
the  office,  and  had  it  half  swept  out  before  Edward, 
the  boy  who  had  been  directed  to  assist  him,  ar 
rived. 

It  is  not  our  purpose  to  picture  singly  and  mi 
nutely  the  daily  trials,  sufferings  and  hardships 
through  which  this  boy  had  to  pass  before  he  ac 
quired  a  sufficient  knowledge  of  the  business  to  place 
him  out  of  the  reach  of  oppression  and  persecution. 
They  were  very  severe.  More  so  than  usually  falls 
to  the  lot  of  apprentices,  though  not  greater  than 
were  borne  by  other  boys  who  filled,  at  that  time, 
the  place  of  "  devil"  in  a  printing  office.  The  very 
name  applied  to  the  boy  who  was  required  to  do  all 
the  drudgery,  odd  turns  and  errands  of  the  office — 
who  was  to  run  at  the  beck  or  call  of  master,  jour 
neyman,  or  older  apprentice — seemed  to  throw  him 
beyond  the  pale  of  sympathy.  For  a  whole  year, — 
and  often,  two  years, — Victor  was  kept  in  the  office, 
receiving,  daily,  more  kicks  than  kind  words,  and 
scarcely  permitted  to  enjoy  the  luxury  of  an  idle 
moment.  It  required  a  boy  of  stout  nerves  and 
good  resolution  to  run  the  gauntlet.  Resistance 
and  retaliation  only  made  matters  worse,  for  the 
odds  of  force  were  entirely  against  the  "  devil." 
This  Victor  was  quick  to  perceive,  and  he  therefore, 
schooled  himself  to  endurance  from  the  first. 

It  was  understood,  that,  after  a  three  months' 
trial,  Victor  should  be  permitted  to  go  home  and 
see  his  parents  for  a  couple  of  days,  and  that,  if 
all  parties  were  satisfied  at  this  time,  he  should  be 


32  THE  WAY  TO   PROSPER. 


indentured  as  an  apprentice.  When  the  lad  went 
home  at  the  expiration  of  this  period,  it  was  with 
feelings  of  discouragement.  Not  on  account  of  the 
hardships  of  his  condition,  for  he  had  resolution 
enough  to  bear  them  ;  but  the  journeyman  named 
Perkins  had  taken  every  opportunity,  knowing,  as 
he  did,  that  Victor  was  on  trial,  to  fill  his  mind 
with  the  notion  that  there  were  already  too  many 
at  the  business. 

"  Tell  your  father,"  said  he,  on  the  eve  of  Victor's 
departure  for  home,  "  that  he'd  better  put  you  to  a 
wood-sawyer  than  to  a  printer.  All  the  masters 
are  filling  their  offices  with  boys,  and  discharging 
the  journeymen ;  and  what  these  are  going  to  do 
when  they  are  free  is  more  than  I  can  tell.  I  know 
twenty  journeymen  printers,  now  in  the  city,  who 
can't  get  a  day's  work.  Only  a  week  ago,  three  as 
good  printers  as  are  to  be  found  any  where,  enlisted 
to  keep  from  starving.  The  business  is  entirely 
over  done." 

All  this  Victor  faithfully  reported  to  his  father, 
and  in  a  tone  of  discouragement.  Mr.  Stevens 
asked  many  questions  about  Perkins;  as  to  his 
character,  conduct  and  habits  ;  and  when  Victor  had 
answered  these,  he  was  fully  prepared  to  give  him 
correct  advice. 

"Pay  no  regard,  whatever,  to  any  thing  such 
men  may  say  to  you,"  was  the  language  of  Mr. 
Stevens.  '"  The  world  is  advancing  much  faster 
than  selfish,  short-sighted  persons  like  Mr.  Perkins 
imagine.  The  increasing  wants  of  society  will 
always  find  employment  for  its  members  in  tho 
various  pursuits  to  which  they  apply  themselves. 


THE  WAY   TO   PROSPER.  33 

If,  in  a  particular  branch  of  business,  there  should 
occur  a  surplus  of  labor,  those  who  are  most  skill 
ful,  and  are  a.t  the  same  time,  sober  and  industrious, 
will  be  those  who  will  find  employment ;  while  the 
lazy,  drunken,  or  bad  workmen,  will  be  driven  off 
to  other  and  less  profitable  callings.  Ever  faithfully 
discharge  your  duty  to  your  employer,  my  son,  and 
you  need  not  fear  that,  so  far  as  you  are  concerned, 
any  business  will  be  overdone.  Be  an  industrious 
apprentice,  and,  at  the  same  time,  gain  a  thorough 
knowledge  of  your  art,  and  you  need  not  feel  any 
concern  about  success  in  the  world  when  you  become 
a  man." 

Victor  understood  this,  young  as  he  was,  and 
felt  its  force ;  and,  moreover,  it  came  with  double 
concmsiveness  to  his  mind,  because  it  was  the  opin 
ion  of  his  father,  in  whose  judgment  he  had  the 
utmost  confidence. 

As  to  the  hardness  of  his  work  and  the  many  un 
pleasant  things  connected  with  his  situation,  Victor 
made  no  complaint.  He  knew  that  it  would  only 
make  his  mother  unhappy,  and  tend  to  discourage 
his  brother  Hartley,  who  would  soon  have  to  follow 
in  his  footsteps. 

"  It  won't  last  forever,"  was  the  lad's  secret  con 
solation.  To  his  father,  however,  he  confided  much 
in  regard  to  the  particular  trials  and  temptations 
by  which  he  was  surrounded ;  not  in  a  complaining 
spirit,  but  in  order  to  receive  his  parent's  counsel. 
The  advice  of  Mr.  Stevens,  coming  as  it  did  in  en 
tire  accordance  with  his  own  first  impressions  of 
right,  encouraged  him  very  much.  Particularly  was 
he  strengthened  by  the  warm  approval  of  his  father 


34  THE   WAY   TO   PROSPER. 


when  he  told  him  of  many  instances  in  which  he 
had  refused  to  do  what  he  thought  to  be  wrong, 
though  strongly  urged  to  step  aside  by  his  asso 
ciates. 

"  To  see  you  so  firm  in  doing  what  is  right,  my 
son,"  said  Mr.  Stevens,  "  gives  my  heart  a  feeling 
of  pleasure  that  I  cannot  describe.  I  feared,  lest, 
when  away  from  home,  amid  a  thousand  tempta 
tions,  the  voice  of  your  parents  might  grow  faint 
in  your  ears.  Thus  far  it  has  not  been  so.  Your 
.obedience  has  not  ceased  with  bodily  separation. 
Our  love  for  you,  and  our  care  over  you,  is  not 
lessened,  but  is  increased  by  your  absence.  We 
think  of  you  daily,  we  pray  for  you  daily,  that  the 
Father  of  all  good  would  keep  your  feet  from  stray 
ing.  And  He  will  so  keep  you,  if  you  continue  to 
live  in  parental  obedience,  even  though  separated 
from  the  home  of  your  early  years." 

When  Victor  returned  to  Boston,  it  was  with  a 
firmer  heart,  and  stronger  resolutions  to  do  right, 
and  only  right,  in  any  and  in  all  circumstances. 
He  was  now  fourteen,  and,  in  accordance  with  the 
original  agreement,  was  regularly  bound  until  he 
should  be  twenty-one  years  of  age. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

DURING  the  visit  of  Victor,  Mr  Close,  the  father 
of  the  lad  previously  mentioned,  called  upon  Mr. 
Stevens  to  ask  his  advice  about  sending  his  son  into 


THE  WAY   TO    PROSPER.  35 

the  city,  and  to  inquire  if  there  was  an  opening  in 
the  office  where  Victor  was  apprenticed,  Peter  hav 
ing  declared  his  wish  to  become  a  printer.  He 
complained  bitterly  of  his  difficulties,  and  spoke 
rather  discouragingly  of  his  boy,  whom  he  repre 
sented  as  self-willed,  headstrong,  and  easily  led 
away.  "  I'm  afraid  I  shall  have  trouble  with  him," 
said  he,  with  a  sigh.  "  If  he  were  not  so  overbear 
ing  and  quarrelsome  among  his  younger  brothers, 
I  would  try  to  keep  him  home  longer ;  but  it  ia 
high  time  that  he  was  under  a  strict  master." 

"There  are  many  temptations  in  a  large  city," 
remarked  Mr.  Stevens. 

"  I  know.  And  the  thought  of  this  makes  me 
anxious.  But  I  cannot  keep  him  at  home ;  and, 
besides,  he  must  get  a  trade.  He  will  have  to 
take  his  chance  with  the  rest.  Who  is  your  boy 
with?" 

"  A  Mr.  Preston." 

"  Do  you  know  anything  about  him  ?  " 

"  He  is  an  old  acquaintance,  and  from  what  I 
know  of  him,  believe  that  he  will  do  all  that  is 
right.  Victor  speaks  well  of  him." 

"Does  he?" 

"  Yes.  He  says  that  he  is  kind  to  his  boys,  but 
makes  them  work." 

"  That's  all  right  enough." 

"  Oh  yes  ;  I've  no  objection  to  that." 

"  I  wonder  if  I  couldn't  get  Peter  with  him  ?  " 

"  That  is  more  than  I  can  tell." 

"  I  would  like  to  very  much.  Your  son  is  a 
steady  boy,  and  his  influence  over  Peter  would  be 
great." 


SC  THE   WAY   TO   PROSPER. 

"  I  will  write  to  Mr.  Preston  when  Victor  goes 
back,  and  make  inquiry  on  the  subject.  Even  if 
he  should  not  want  a  boy  he  may  know  of  some  one 
who  does." 

"You  will  oblige  me  very  much,  indeed,"  said 
Mr.  Close.  "  I  have  not  a  single  acquaintance  in 
Boston,  and,  therefore,  am  without  facilities  for 
procuring  a  place  for  my  son." 

Mr.  Stevens  was  as  good  as  his  word;  but  the 
master  of  Victor  did  not,  then,  wish  to  take  an 
other  apprentice.  While  at  home,  Victor  and  Peter 
had  seen  each  other  every  day  and  talked  over  the 
matter.  The  former  felt  a  good  deal  interested  ir 
his  old  school-mate  and  play-fellow,  and  was  anxious 
to  have  him  at  Mr.  Preston's.  It  was,  therefore, 
with  no  little  disappointment  that  he  wrote  home  to 
his  father,  immediately  on  his  return,  that  Mr. 
Preston  wished  him  to  say  that,  for  the  present,  he 
did  not  care  to  take  another  boy,  and  did  not  know 
of  an  opening  in  any  printing  office. 

"  Tell  Peter,"  said  Victor,  in  this  letter,  "that  I 
will  do  my  best  to  get  him  a  place  somewhere." 

And  the  boy  was  successful.  It  was  a  month 
before  he  was  able  to  get  a  place  for  Peter,  and 
in  the  effort  to  do  so,  he  visited,  as  opportunity 
offered,  nearly  every  printing  office  in  the  city. 

When  Peter  Close  came  down  to  Boston,  Victor 
was  ready  to  welcome  hinv  He  had  already  gained 
the  consent  of  the  printer  who  was  to  be  his  master, 
to  let  him  board  at,  the  house  where  he  was  boarding ; 
and  the  landlady  had,  of  course,  no  objection  to 
their  sharing  the  same  bed. 

It  was  a  bright  day  for  Victor  when  Peter  ar- 


THE   WAY   TO    PROSPER.  37 

rived.  He  felt  it  almost  as  a  gleam  of  sunshine 
from  home.  How  much  pleasure  did  he  anticipate 
from  their  nightly  re-unions,  after  long  hours  of 
hard  labor.  On  Sundays — blessed  seasons  of  rest 
for  overtasked  apprentices ! — they  could  always  be 
together. 

"  How  do  you  like  your  place?  "  was  the  first 
question  of  Victor,  on  meeting  with  Peter  at  supper 
time,  after  the  close  of  the  first  day. 

Peter  looked  rather  serious,  but  replied,  though 
in  no  very  cheerful  voice — 

"  Pretty  well." 

"  It  is  not  like  being  at  home,  you  know,"  said 
Victor,  encouragingly.  "  I  havn't  found  all  just 
as  I  could  wish.  But,  it  won't  last  forever." 

"  Do  the  men  swear  at  you  ?  "  asked  Peter. 

"  Yes  ;  but  I  try  not  to  mind  it." 

"  One  of  them  called  me  a ,"  repeating  some 

vile  language.  "  I  was  so  mad  I  could  have  thrown 
something  at  his  head." 

"  That  wouldn't  have  done  any  good,"  said  Vic 
tor,  "  and  might  have  lost  you  your  place." 

"  But  he's  no  right  to  talk  to  me  in  that  way." 

"Still  you  can't  help  it.  We  are  boys,  and 
strangers  in  the  city.  If  we  lose  the  places  we 
have,  we  may  not  be  able  to  get  others.  Don't 
mind  it,  Peter.  I  put  up  with  a  great  deal." 

"If  he  calls  me  that  again,  I'll  tell  Mr.  Ludlow," 
remarked  Peter,  in  whom  the  spirit  of  antagonism 
was  pretty  strong. 

"No,  Peter,  don't  do  that.  You'll  only  get  the 
ill  will  of  the  men  ;  and,  if  you  do,  they  can  make 
it  ten  times  as  hard  for  you  as  it  would  otherwise  be." 


•38  THE   WAY   TO    PROSPER. 


"  He's  no  right  to  speak  so  to  me  ?  "  persisted  the 
lad,  indignantly. 

"All  true  enough,"  urged  Victor,  "but  hard 
words  are  easier  to  bear  than  blows." 

"Did  any  of  the  men  ever  strike  you  ?  "  inquired 
Peter. 

"Yes  ;  a  good  many  times." 

"No  man  in  our  office  shall  lay  his  hands  on  me, 
but  Mr.  Ludlow,"  was  the  boy's  indignant  remark, 
on  hearing  this.  "  It's  bad  enough  to  be  scolded 
and  cursed." 

"I  know  it  is,  Peter.  And  the  men  have  no 
right  to  strike  us.  But  they  will  do  it  sometimes. 
And  then,  if  we  complain,  they  will  tell  their  own 
story,  and  make  it  appear  that  we  deserved  all  we 
got,  and  a  great  deal  more.  It  won't  last  always. 
In  a  year  or  two  we  will  be  old  enough  to  remain 
at  case,  and  then  the  pressmen  won't  have  any 
thing  to  do  with  us." 

"I'm  not  going  to  be  struck,"  persisted  Peter. 
"  I'll  knock  any  man  down  that  strikes  me." 

In  this  spirit  the  boy  went  to  the  office  on  the 
next  morning.  As  he  came  in,  a  journeyman  very 
much  resembling  Perkins  in  character,  swore  at  him 
for  a  lazy  vagabond. 

"I'm  i*o  more  of  a  vagabond  than  you  are,"  was 
Peter's  quick  reply.  The  words  were  scarcely  out 
of  his  mouth,  before  he  received  a  blow  alongside 
of  his  head  from  the  open  hand  of  the  journeyman, 
that  knocked  him  half  across  the  room.  Just  at 
this  instant  Mr.  Ludlow,  the  master  printer,  came  in. 

"What's  the  meaning  of  this?"  he  asked,  in  a 
good  deal  of  excitement. 


THE    WAY    TO    PROSPER.  39 

"The  young  scoundrel  called  me  a  vagabond," 
said  the  journeyman. 

"  He  did  ?  Upon  my  word  that's  a  fair  begin- 
uing.  See  here,  Peter  !"  Mr.  Ludlow  spoke  sternly. 

The  boy  approached. 

"  How  came  you  to  call  Mr.  Bell  a  vagabond  ?  M 

"  He  swore  at  me,  and  called  me  one  first,"  re 
plied  the  lad. 

"  It's  a  lie,  you  young  scoundrel !  "  retorted  the 
journeyman  promptly. 

"A  very  nice  beginning,  I  must  confess  !  "  said 
Mr.  Ludlow.  "A  little  too  nice  for  me!  I  don't 
want  any  such  boys  about  my  establishment.  So, 
my  young  chap,  you  can  just  take  yourself  off  as 
quickly  as  you  please.  I'll  pay  your  board  for  one 
week  to  give  you  a  chance  to  get  another  place. 
After  that  you  must  shift  for  yourself." 

Peter  tried  to  say  something  more  in  his  own  de 
fence;  but  Mr.  Ludlow  cut  the  matter  short,  and 
told  him  to  go  about  his  business.  This  was  rather 
a  hard  case  for  the  boy.  So  sudden  a  loss  of  his 
situation  completely  dashed  him  to  the  earth.  When 
he  met  Victor  at  breakfast  time,  tears  were  in  his 
eyes  as  he  related  the  disastrous  termination  of  his 
apprenticeship  with  Mr.  Ludlow.  His  friend  con 
soled  him  as  best  he  could.  • 

"  I  will  go  and  see  Mr.  Ludlow  to  night.  I  know 
where  he  lives,"  said  Victor.  "  Maybe,  after  think 
ing  about  it,  he  will  take  you  back  again.  I  wish 
you  hadn't  said  what  you  did  to  the  journeyman." 

"He'd  no  business  to  call  me  a  lazy  vagabond-" 

"  I  know  that,  Peter.  But  dont  you  sec  that  we 
can't  help  ourselves.  Better  be  called  a  lazy  vaga- 
4 


40  THE   WAY  TO   PROSPER. 

bond  than  not  get  a  trade.  His  saying  so  don't 
make  it  so.  Words  won't  break  our  bones." 

"  I  know  that.     But " 

"  It's  no  use  to  think  of  having  every  thing  just 
as  we  like  it,"  said  Victor,  interrupting  him,  "for 
it  can't  be.  You  must  either  put  up  with  a  great 
deal,  or  go  back  home  again.  It's  folly  for  you  to 
attempt  to  fight  your  way,  for  you  are  weak  while 
all  around  you  are  strong." 

"  Well,  it's  a  shame  !  " 

"  I  know  it  is,  Peter,     But  we  can't  help  it." 

That  evening,  Victor  went  to  see  Mr.  Ludlow, 
after  getting  Peter  to  promise  that,  if  taken  back, 
he  would  act  differently.  Since  morning,  the  prin 
ter  had  been  informed  as  to  the  provocation  re 
ceived  by  Peter,  and,  in  consequence,  blamed  the 
lad  much  less  than  at  first.  It  did  not  take  any 
great  deal  of  persuasion  to  induce  him  to  take 
Peter  back,  which  he  did,  after  giving  him  a  serious 
lecture. 

"  If  you  expect  to  get  along  in  a  printing  office," 
said  he,  "  you  must  make  up  your  mind  to  bear  a 
good  deal  for  the  first  year  or  two.  To  attempt  to 
fight  your  way  with  the  men  and  older  boys,  will 
only  make  things  ten  times  worse  for  you  than  they 
would  otherwise  be.  Do  your  work  quickly  and  as 
well  as  you  can,  and  let  that  be  all  you  care  for. 
As  to  quarreling  and  fighting,  that  is  out  of  the 
question ;  and  if  you  dont  think  you  can  get  along 
without  it,  you'd  better  not  come  back  into  the 
office." 

As  might  have  been  expected,  Peter's  belligerant 
conduct  only  gained  him  the  ill-will  of  the  journey- 


41 


men,  who  took  every  opportunity  that  offered  to 
oppress  him.  Not  having  much  control  over  him 
self,  he  would,  at  times,  speak  out  what  was  in  his 
mind  ;  and  the  consequence  always  was,  a  hlow,  or 
a  threat,  that  caused  him  instantly  to  bridle  his 
tongue.  He  complained  a  great  deal  to  Victor 
Stevens,  whose  situation  was  little  better  than  his 
own,  only  not  rendered  well  nigh  intolerable  by  in 
effectual  resistance  and  murmurs. 

Peter  Close  had  only  been  in  Boston  three  or 
four  days,  when  he  proposed  to  Victor  to  visit  the 
theatre. 

"  I  have  no  money  to  spend  in  that  way ;  and,  if 
I  had,  I  would  not  think  it  right  to  go,"  replied 
young  Stevens. 

"  It  won't  cost  any  thing,"  asked  Peter. 

"  Why  not  ?  "  inquired  Victor. 

"  One  of  the  boys  at  our  office  told  me  all  about 
it.  You  go  in  with  checks." 

"  How  do  you  get  the  checks  ?  " 

"  Why,  you  see,  after  a  part  of  the  play  is  over, 
if  any  one  wants  to  come  out  for  a  little  while,  the 
door  keeper  hands  him  a  check.  A  great  many 
who  come  out  in  this  way  don't  care  about  returning, 
and  give  their  checks  to  the  boys,  who  can  get  in 
with  them  and  see  the  rest  of  the  play." 

"  I  wouldn't  be  a  beggar  of  checks,  even  if  I 
thought  it  right  to  go  to  the  theatre,"  said  Victor, 
with  an  independent  air. 

"  What  harm  is  there  in  going  ?  "  asked  Peter. 

"  My  father  said,  when  I  left  home,  that  he  wa3 
particular  in  not  wishing  me  to  go  to  the  theatre, 
as  it  was  a  place  where  boys  were  most  likely  to  be 
5 


42  THE  WAY  TO   PROSPER. 

led  into  evil  ways.  I  promised  him  that  I  would 
not  do  so  ;  and  I  will  not.  For  me  it  would  be 
very  wrong." 

"  Well,  my  father  didn't  say  any  thing  to  me 
about  it,  and  I'm  going." 

"  I  wouldn't,  if  I  were  you,  Peter." 

"  Why  wouldn't  you  ?  " 

"  It's  a  bad  place.  Besides^  I'd  be  more  inde 
pendent  than  to  beg  checks." 

"  Other  boys  do  it ;  and  I  don't  see  that  I'm  so 
much  better  than  they  are." 

"  I  can  tell  you  what  it  is,  Peter ;  I  feel  myself 
a  great  deal  better  than  boys  who  have  no  more 
respect  for  themselves  than  to  turn  beggars,"  re 
plied  Victor,  tossing  his  head  with  an  independent 
air. 

"  Though,  for  all  that,  you  let  the  men  in  your 
office  curse  you  and  beat  you  about  as  if  you  were 
no  better  than  a  dog." 

"  I  can't  help  myself  so  far  as  that  goes  ;  but  I 
can,  help  begging  checks  at  a  theatre  door.  I'd  put 
my  hand  in  the  fire  before  I'd  do  it." 

"  Well,  I  don't  care  what  you  think,"  returned 
Peter,  "  I'm  going  to  the  theatre.  I've  always 
wanted  to  see  a  play." 

It  was  in  vain  that  Victor  reasoned  with  and 
persuaded  the  boy.  He  was  bent  on  visiting  the 
theatre,  and  he  carried  out  his  purpose.  To  Victor 
he  described  what  he  had  seen  in  the  most  glowing 
language,  and  urged  him  to  go  with  him  on  the  next 
night.  But  the  lad  was  immovable. 

On  the  first  Sunday  after  Peter  came  to  the  city, 
Victor  asked  him  to  go  to  church  with  him :  but 


THE    WAY  TO    PROSIER.  43 

Peter  said,  no — he  didn't  like  to  go  to  church.     His 
father  hardly  ever  went. 

"  But  didn't  he  say  that  you  must  go  to  church  ?" 
asked  Victor. 

"  He  said  that  he'd  like  me  to  attend  some 
church,  but  didn't  say  I  must  go." 

"  He  would  rather  have  you  do  so,  Peter;  and  now 
that  you  are  away  from  him,  you  ought  to  do  what 
you  think  would  please  him  even  more  strictly,  if 
there  is  any  difference,  than  if  he  were  present." 

But  Peter  saw  no  force  in  this  argument.  Pa 
rental  restraint  had  always  been  irksome  to  him, 
and  he  had  no  disposition  voluntarily  to  assume  the 
yoke  of  obedience.  He  was  now  free  to  do  what  he 
pleased,  and  go  where  he  pleased  on  Sundays,  and 
he  was  fully  disposed  to  make  good  use  of  the  privi 
lege. 

Victor  Stevens  acted  altogether  differently.  He 
observed  the  Sabbath  as  a  day  of  worship  and  reli 
gious  instruction.  Sunday  schools  had  but  recently 
been  established.  Mr.  Franklin,  who  boarded  in 
the  house  with  him,  was  a  teacher,  and  Victor, 
through  his  recommendation,  attached  himself  to 
one  of  them,  and  attended  regularly,  every  morning 
and  afternoon.  He  also  went  regularly  to  church. 

Thus  differently  did  these  two  lads  choose  their 
ways  in  entering  upon  life  ;  and  it  was  not  long 
before  their  paths  made  considerable  divergence. 
Peter  was  soon  so  entirely  fascinated  with  the 
theatre  and  the  low  company  he  met  there,  that  he 
might  be  found  nightly  at  the  doors  seeking  for  an 
opportunity  to  obtain  entrance  in  the  way  just 
mentioned.  On  Sundays,  he  went  off  to  stroll  in 
4* 


44  THE  WAY   TO   PROSPER. 

the  woods  and  fields,  or  to  sail  in  the  harbor.  As 
for  attending  church,  that  was  a  thing  never  done. 
Victor  frequently  remonstrated  with  Peter,  but  to 
no  purpose ;  and  the  latter  even  so  far  forgot  his 
good  feelings  and  sense  of  propriety,  as  at  times,  to 
join  some  others  in  ridiculing  his  old  school  com 
panion  and  friend  as  a  "  saint." 


CHAPTER  V. 

Two  years  of  hard  trials,  endurance  and  suffering 
were  passed  by  Victor,  when  his  age,  and  the  skill 
he  had  acquired  in  type-setting,  removed  him  from 
a  position  in  which  but  little  sympathy  or  considera 
tion  had  ever  been  extended  towards  him.  During 
all  that  long  period  he  had  been  careful  to  com 
plain  but  little  to  his  parents.  That,  he  reflected, 
could  do  no  good,  and  would  only  make  them 
unhappy.  Steadily  he  adhered  to  his  first  resolu 
tion  of  strict  obedience  to  their  wishes ;  and  in  all 
cases,  where  his  mind  was  in  doubt,  he  wrote  home 
to  his  father,  or  consulted  him  at  the  time  of  his 
semi-annual  visit  to  the  home  of  his  childhood.  At 
Sunday  school,  he  was  a  regular  and  attentive 
scholar,  and  not  a  single  Sabbath  during  the  two 
years  had  he  been  absent  from  church.  This  atten 
dance  at  Sabbath  school  brought  him  into  associa 
tion  with  boys  of  a  very  different  class  from  those 
whom  Peter  found  hanging  around  the  doors  of  the 
theatre,  or  hunting  bird'-s  nests  and  strolling  in  the 


THE    WAY    TO    PROSPER.  45 



£elds  on  Sunday.  With  one  of  his  Sabbath  school 
friends,  the  son  of  a  widow,  Victor  became  particu 
larly  intimate  ;  and  as  the  mother  of  the  boy  liked 
Victor,  and  felt  for  his  lonely  situation,  separated, 
as  he  was  from  his  frieuds,  and  in  a  strange  city, 
she  invited  him  to  come  home  with  her  son  every 
Sunday  evening,  after  school,  and  take  tea  with  the 
family.  Most  highly  did  the  boy  esteem  this  privi 
lege.  The  widow's  name  was  Redmond.  She  had 
two  children — William  and  Anna.  William  was 
nearly  the  same  age  as  Victor,  and  Anna  was  some 
two  years  younger. 

The  thought  of  meeting  with  this  kind  family 
every  Sunday  evening,  made  the  boy's  toil  lighter 
through  the  week.  Mrs.  Redmond  was  a  pioua 
woman,  and  early  taught  her  children  a  reverence 
for  God,  and  a  strict  obedience  to  his  command 
ments.  On  Sunday  evenings  she  read  the  Bible 
and  talked  to  them  on  subjects  connected  with  re 
ligion  and  their  duties  in  life.  In  doing  this,  she 
was  careful  not  to  weary  their  young  minds ;  and 
but  rarely  did  she  do  so.  What  she  said,  uttered 
as  it  was  in  appropriate  words,  and  at  the  right 
time,  generally  made  its  due  impression.  It  was 
the  genuineness  of  her  affection  that  gave. life  to 
her  precepts.  It  is  not  speaking  too  strongly  to 
say  that  Victor  loved  Mrs.  Redmond.  To  him,  she 
was  only  second  to  his  own  mother,  and  she  felt  for 
him  soon  after  he  began  to  visit  in  her  family, 
something  of  a  mother's  regard,  and  manifested  it 
in  a  care  for  him  such  as  a  mother's  feelings  \vould 
be  quickest  to  prompt.  The  sum  which  Victor  re 
ceived  for  the  purchase  of  clothes,  was  not  sufficient 


46  THE   WAY   TO   PROSPER. 

to  procure  any  but  the  plainest,  and  what  he  had, 
often  became  unfit  to  wear  for  want  of  proper  mend 
ing,  long  before  they  would,  otherwise,  have  been 
thrown  aside.  Mrs.  Redmond  soon  observed  this, 
and  thinking  how  glad  she  would  be  if  some  kind 
person  would  take  the  same  care  of  her  own  boy,  if 
he  were  away,  determined,  as  a  matter  of  feeling  as 
well  as  duty,  to  assume  the  care  of  looking  after 
the  boy's  clothing.  She  had  them  given  to  her  own 
washerwoman,  who  charged  Victor  no  more  than  he 
had  been  paying,  and  when  they  came  home,  she 
looked  over  and  mended  them  herself  or  let  Anna 
do  it.  Every  Saturday  night  Victor  came  for  his 
bundle  of  clean  clothes,  and  on  Monday  mornings, 
as  he  passed  to  the  office,  left  those  he  had  thrown 
off  for  the  wash.  His  work  was  the  dirtiest  work 
in  the  office,  and  it  was  impossible  to  keep  from 
getting  all  his  garments  badly  soiled  ;  but  the 
thought  that  they  would  all  go  to  Mrs.  Redmond's 
made  him  doubly  careful  after  she  kindly  took 
charge  of  them,  and  the  effect  was  his  greatly  im 
proved  appearance,  which  was  noticed  by  his  master 
and  all  in  the  office,  and  created  for  him  a  feeling 
of  respect  that  saved  him  from  many  acts  of  oppres 
sion. 

Mrs.  Redmond  also  took  charge  of  the  purchasing 
of  his  clothes,  and,  by  this  means,  made  the  slender 
income  of  Victor  go  a  great  deal  farther  than  other 
wise  would  have  been  the  case.  Occasionally,  she 
would  add  a  trifle  from  her  own  purse  in  buying  a 
garment,  so  as  to  improve  the  quality.  But  of  this 
kind  act  the  boy  remained  ignorant,  although  in  the 
enjoyment  of  the  good  which  flowed  from  it. 


• 

THE   WAY   TO   PROSPER.  47 

For  Peter  Close,  there  was  no  one  to  care  after 
this  generous  manner.  He  selected  different  com 
panions,  and  walked  in  a  different  way.  Such  a 
thing  as  true  kindness  and  sympathy  never  visited 
nor  cheered  him.  His  associates,  like  himself, 
sought  only  their  individual  pleasure,  and  cared  for 
each  other  only  so  far  as  the  companionship  enabled 
them  to  attain  the  ends  they  had  in  view.  The  dif 
ference  in  the  personal  appearance  of  the  two  boya 
was  very  marked.  While  Victor,  particularly  on 
Sundays,  looked  neat  and  tidy,  Peter's  clothes  were 
worn  in  a  slovenly  mannerjfcand  he  hardly  ever  had 
a  decent  garment  to  put  en.  When  Sunday  nights 
came,  he  usually  returned  from  his  rambles  tired 
and  dissatisfied ;  and  was  often  moping  in  his  board 
ing  house,  while  Victor  was  sharing  the  pleasant 
home  of  his  Sunday  school  friend,  William  Eed- 
mond. 

Two  years,  as  we  have  intimated,  had  passed 
away,  and  Victor  was  about  being  relieved  entirely 
from  the  general  duties  of  the  office,  to  which,  aa 
one  of  the  younger  boys,  he  had,  from  the  first  been 
devoted.  At  this  time  the  visit  of  a  week  at  home 
was  permitted. 

"  Are  you  going  to  take  another  apprentice  ?"  he 
asked  of  Mr.  Preston,  respectfully,  on  the  day  he 
was  about  starting  for  the  country. 

"  Yes  ;  I  must  have  some  one  in  your  place  now 
that  you  are  to  go  into  the  composing  room,"  said 
Mr.  Preston.  u  Do  you  know  a  good  boy  ?" 

"  My  brother  Hartley  would  like  to  learn  the 
business." 

"  Ah,  would  he  ?   How  old  is  Hartley  ?" 


48  THE  WAY   TO   PROSPER. 

"  He's  just  fourteen." 

"  He's  a  good  boy,  I  suppose." 

"  Yes,  sir  ;  I  know  he  is."  There  was  an  air  of 
pride  and  pleasure  in  the  voice  of  Victor  as  he  made 
this  reply. 

"  Is  your  father  willing  that  two  of  his  sons  should 
become  printers  ?" 

"  If  Hartley  likes  the  business,  he  would  think  it 
best  for  us  to  have  the  same  trade,  for  then  we 
could  work  together  and  help  each  other." 

"  The  youngest  boy  in  a  printing  office  has  a  hard 
time  of  it,  as  you  well  know ;  you  would  not  like  to 
see  your  brother  treated  as  you  have  been  by  the 
men  and  boys." 

Victor  looked  earnestly  into  Mr.  Preston's  face 
for  some  moments,  before  replying.  Then  he 
said — 

"  I  could  show  him  and  help  him  a  great  deal 
without  neglecting  my  work,  and  so  make  ^lt  easier 
for  him.  And  I  know  that  some  of  the  men  would 
be  kinder  to  him  for  my  sake,  than  they  would  be 
to  a  boy  who  had  no  one  in  the  office  to  take  his 
part." 

"  But  might  not  your  interference  for  Hartley 
get  you  into  difficulties  with  the  men  and  older 
boys  ?" 

"I  am  not  quarrelsome,"  said  Victor  —  again 
looking  up  steadily  into  his  master's  face. 

"  No,  Victor,  I  will  give  you  credit  for  being  a 
peaceable,  good  disposed  boy,"  returned  Mr.  Preston, 
in  a  voice  of  approval.  "  And  I  am  so  well  pleased 
with  you,  tell  your  father,  that  I  would  like  to  hare 
another  of  his  boys  if  he  has  one  to  spare." 


THE  WAT  TO   PROSPER.  49 

A  light  flashed  over  the  face  of  Victor  as  Mr. 
Preston  said  this,  and,  in  spite  of  his  manly  effort 
to  control  his  feelings,  the  tears  came  into  his  eyes. 
Not  trusting  himself  to  speak,  he  bowed  •with  a 
grateful  heart,  and  retired  from  the  presence  rf  his 
master. 

Mr.  Stevens'  affairs  had  not  improved  a  great 
deal,  although  relieved  of  the  burden  of  Victor's 
support.  The  mortgage  had  only  been  reduced 
fifty  dollars — although  it  was  out  of  the  hands  of 
the  man  who  first  held  it,  and  was  in  the  possession 
of  another  person,  who  was  satisfied  to  let  it  re 
main  so  long  as  the  interest  was  jegularly  paid. 
Still  it  was  felt  as  a  burden,  and  the  wish  to  have  it 
removed  was  ever  uppermost  in  the  mind  of  Mr. 
Stevens.  As  the  younger  members  of  his  family 
came  forward,  the  expense  of  their  maintenance 
increased,  and  the  necessity  for  Hartley's  leaving 
home  became  every  day  more  apparent.  Victor 
understood  this  previous  to  his  visit  home,  and  was, 
also,  aware  of  the  views  of  the  family  on  the  sub 
ject.  Hence  his  application  to  his  master.  When 
he  communicated  to  his  father  what  Mr.  Preston 
had  said  about  wishing  to  have  another  one  of  his 
boys,  he  was  so  well  satisfied  with  the  first,  Mr. 
Stevens'  pleasure  was  very  great. 

"If  Hartley  is  willing,  he  shall  go  back  with 
you,"  said  he,  without  hesitation. 
'%  Peter  Close  knew  nothing  of  Victor's  intention 
to  get  his  brother  Hartley  into  the  office  with  him 
self  until  the  two  boys  came  down  from  the  coun 
try.  Peter  no  longer  boarded  in  the  same  houso 

with  Victor,  having  left  it  to  go  into  a  family  where 

«  ™ 


50  THE   WAY  TO    PROSPER. 

two  or  three  of  his  most  intimate  associates  were 
living.  On  meeting  Victor,  after  learning  that 
Hartley  had  come  to  Boston,  he  said  to  him,  with 
manifest  surprise — 

"  And  is  your  brother  really  going  to  be  a 
printer  ?" 

"Certanly  he  is,"  replied  Victor. 

"And  he's  in  Preston's  office  ?" 

"Yes." 

Peter  shook  his  head  with  a  disapproving  air. 

"  What  is  your  objection  ?"  inquired  Victor. 

"In  the  first  place,"  said  Peter,  "  there  never 
should  be  two  of  a  trade  in  one  family ;  and,  in  the 
second  place,  two  brothers  will  never  agree  as  ap 
prentices  in  the  same  shop  or  office." 

"  I  think  very  differently  from  that.  If  two  or 
even  three  brothers  learn  the  same  trade,  the  old 
est  can  help  the  younger  ones,  and  all  can  unite 
together  when  they  are  free  and  make  their  success 
in  the  world  more  certain.  As  to  not  agreeing  as 
apprentices,  it  seems  to  me  that  they  are  the  very 
ones  to  agree  best.  I'm  sure  Hartley  and  I  will 
agree  well  enough." 

"  And  I'm  very  sure  that  my  brother  Bill  and  I 
•would  not  agree  for  a  week.  We  never  did  at 
home  for  an  hour.  Father  wants  Bill  to  be  a 
printer,  and  wrote  to  me  to  ask  Mr.  Ludlow  to 
take  him.  We  wanted  a  boy  just  then  in  the  office, 
but  I  knew  Bill  wouldn't  suit ;  and,  besides,  I  didn't 
•want  him  there.  So  I  waited  until  the  place 
was  filled  and  then  wrote  home  to  father  that  Mr. 
Ludlow  had  as  many  boys  as  he  wanted,  and 
-  wouldn't  probably  take  another  for  a  year.  And, 


THE  WAY  TO   PROSPER.  51 

besides,  I  said  all  I  could  to  discourage  him  in  re 
gard  to  our  trade.  The  fact  is,  there  are  too  many 
at  it  now.  There  are  scores  of  journeymen  walk 
ing  about  the  streets  with  nothing  to  do;  and  how 
will  it  be  when  the  swarm  of  apprentice  boys,  at 
present  filling  all  the  offices,  are  free  ?" 

Victor  was  so  surprised  at  this  declaration,  that 
he  hardly  knew  what  to  reply.  William  Close  was 
rather  gentle  and  shrinking  in  his  character,  and 
needed  the  care,  protection,  and  kindness  of  one 
older  and  stronger  than  himself.  The  heartless  in 
difference  of  Peter  really  shocked  him. 

"  I  think  you  did  very  wrong,"  said  he.  "  If 
you  will  not  help  and  protect  your  brother,  who  is 
to  do  it  ?  In  Mr.  Ludlow's  office,  it  would  have 
been  in  your  power  to  lighten  many  a  burden  laid 
upon  his  shoulders  ;  and  you  know,  as  well  as  I  do, 
that,  let  him  go  where  he  will,  they  will  be  heavy 
a.nd  hard  to  be  borne.  William  is  not  a  bold,  strong 
boy,  able  to  make  his  way  in  the  world  as  easily  as 
you  and  I." 

"I  can't  help  it,"  replied  Peter,  impatiently. 
"I've  got  to  make  my  way  and  he'll  have  to  make 
his.  I  don't  want  him  and  am  not  going  to  have 
him  at  our  office.  That's  settled.  It  will  be  a  great 
deal  better  for  us  to  have  separate  places.  It's  as 
much  as  I  can  do  to  take  care  of  myself,  without 
being  troubled  with  him." 

"  How  can  you  feel  so  unkindly  towards  your 
brother?"  said  Victor. 

"  1  don't  feel  unkindly  towards  him.  But  I  know 
it  will  be  a  great  deal  better  for  us  to  go  along 
separate  roads.  We  never  did  and  never  will  agree 
5 


52  THE  WAT  TO   PROSPER. 

together  ;  and  there  is  no  use  in  jarring  and  quar 
reling.  I'll  do  all  I  can  for  him,  if  he  ever  needs 
my  assistance ;  but  it  wouldn't  be  best  to  put  us 
too  close  together.  I  know  that  well  enough." 

"  Does  William  want  to  learn  our  trade  ?" 

"So  he  said,  when  I  was  up  last.  But  that  was 
only  because  I'm  at  the  business.  He  doesn't  know 
what  he  would  like.  I  said  all  I  could  to  discourage 
him ;  but  when  he  once  gets  his  head  set  on  any 
thing,  there's  no  turning  him  away  from  it.  I  want 
him  to  be  a  carpenter.  That's  a  good  trade ;  he 
can  learn  it  with  Mr.  Joice,  and  board  at  home  all 
through  his  apprenticeship,  which  would  be  a  great 
thing.  Boston  isn't  the  best  place  in  the  world  for 
a  boy,  and  I'm  afraid  to  have  Bill  come  here.  He 
will  be  a  great  deal  safer  where  he  is." 

Victor  saw  that  argument  with  Peter  would  be  of 
no  use.  and  so  he  did  not  urge  anything  further  on 
the  subject.  He  felt  sorry  for  William  Close,  who 
was  not  at  all  fitted  for  the  rough  usage  he  was 
fikely  to  meet  in  the  world. 

"  If  his  own  brother  don't  care  for  him,"  said  he 
to  himself,  as  he  parted  from  Peter,  "  who  is  to  do 
BO?" 


THE   WAY   TO    PROSPER.  55 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE  circumstances  of  Mr.  Close,  instead  of  im 
proving,  grew  more  and  more  straitened  every  day ; 
and  earlier  than  he  wished  to  send  his  second  boy, 
William,  out  into  the  world,  he  was  compelled  to 
take  him  from  school,  and  look  after  a  place  for 
him  as  an  apprentice  to  some  trade.  He  wished, 
particularly,  to  have  him  in  the  same  office  with 
Peter — William  having  expressed  a  desire  to  become 
a  printer — for  then  the  boy  would  have  some  one 
to  look  after  and  protect  him.  But  he  saw  that 
Peter  was  opposed  to  this  the  moment  it  was 
mentioned ;  and  when  the  answer  to  his  letter,  de 
siring  him  to  speak  to  Mr.  Ludlow,  came,  a  sus 
picion  crossed  his  mind  that  the  boy  had  not  acted 
fairly. 

"  I  will  go  to  Boston  and  see  about  it  myself," 
said  he,  after  thinking  over  the  matter.  And  he 
did  so  immediately.  On  arriving  in  the  city,  he 
called,  first,  at  the  office  of  Mr.  Ludlow.  On  intro 
ducing  himself,  he  inquired  if  the  printer  did  not 
want  another  boy. 

"Not  just  now,"  replied  Mr.  Ludlow.  "It  is 
only  a  couple -of  weeks  since  I  took  one." 

"  Did  Peter  say  any  thing  to  you  about  his 
brother  ?"  asked  Mr.  Close. 
6 


56  THE  WAY  TO   PROSPEK. 

"  Not  a  word.  I've  been  looking  out  for  a  boy 
that  would  suit  me  for  several  weeks." 

"  Did  my  son  know  this  ?" 

"  Oh,  yes." 

Mr.  Close  asked  no  more  questions.  He  was 
hurt  as  well  as  angry  at  his  boy's  conduct. 

"  Do  you  wish  to  see  Peter  ?"  inquired  Mr.  Lud- 
low.  "I  will  call  him  down." 

"No,  not  just  now,"  replied  Mr.  Close.  "I  can 
drop  in  again  during  the  morning."  He  spoke 
with  an  abstracted  air.  "  Do  you  know  of  any  one 
who  wants  a  boy?" 

Mr.  Ludlow  reflected  for  some  moments. 

"Yes,"  he  then  answered.  "There  is  a  very 
clever  man,  named  Edgerton,  a  watch-maker,  who 
asked  me,  yesterday,  if  I  knew  of  any  one  who  had 
a  good  boy  that  would  like  to  learn  a  trade." 

"A  watch-maker,"  said  Mr,  Close.  "Is  that  a 
good  trade  ?" 

"  I  believe  so.  There  are  not  so  many  at  it  as 
there  are  at  the  printing ;  and  all  seem  to  be  doing 
Very  well." 

"  You  know  the  man  ?" 

"  Mr.  Edgerton  ?     Oh  yes.     Very  well." 

"And  you  think  it  would  be  a  good  place  for  a 
boy?" 

"I  do." 

"Would  you  have  any  objection  to  giving  me  a 
little  note  to  Mr.  Edgerton?" 

"None  in  the  least."  And  the  printer  did  as 
requested.  Mr.  Close  took  the  note  and  went  away 
without  seeing  his  son.  The  whole  day  passed, 


THE   WAY  TO   PROSPER.  57 

and  he  did  not  return.     On  the  next  morning  Mr. 
Ludlow  said  to  Peter. 

"  Have  you  seen  your  father?" 

"No,  sir.  Where  is  he?"  The  boy  looked 
startled. 

"  Not  seen  him !"     Mr.  Ludlow  evinced  surprise. 

"No,  sir.     When  was  he  here?"  inquired  Peter. 

"Yesterday.  Didn't  you  know  that  he  was 
desirous  of  getting  a  place  in  a  printing  office  for 
your  brother  ?" 

Peter  was  stammering  out  a  negative,  when  he 
caught  himself,  on  reflection,  and  admitted  that  he 
was  aware  of  the  fact. 

"You  have  known,  for  several  weeks,  that  it  was 
my  intention  to  take  another  boy." 

This  Peter  was  forced  to  acknowledge. 

"  Then  why  didn't  you  mention  your  brother." 

"  Because  I  was  sure  he  wouldn't  suit  you,"  re 
plied  Peter. 

"Why  not?" 

"  He  isn't  a  very  strong  boy.  I  don't  believe 
he  could  stand  a  printing  office." 

"  But  your  father  thinks  differently.  He  wished 
him  to  learn  the  trade." 

Peter  hung  his  head  with  a  confused,  guilty  look. 

"  And,  so  your  father  has  not  been  to  see  you  ?" 
said  Mr.  Ludlow. 

"No,  sir." 

"  You  must  have  acted  very  disobediently  to  cause 
him  thus  to  avoid  you." 

Peter  did  not  answer.    A  few  moments  of  silence 
followed ;  and  then  Mr.  Ludlow  told  him  that  he 
could  go  to  his  work.      Peter  went  back  into  the 
5* 


-  •.<  '  *  * 

•*'•   .  *•  11  •-•.*.••  ^n 

58  THE   WAY  TO   PROSPER. 

printing  office,  feeling  about  as  badly  as  ever  lie  had 
felt  in  his  life. 

In  the  meantime,  Mr.  Close  had  called  to  see  the 
•watchmaker,  who  kept  a  little  shop  in  Hanover 
street.  The  note  from  Mr.  Ludlow  who  said  that 
he  had  one  of  the  farmer's  boys,  was  all-sufficient 
to  make  the  application  favorably  received.  In  an 
hour  after  entering  Mr.  Edgerton's  shop,  Mr.  Close 
started  from  the  city,  on  his  way  home,  it  being 
all  arranged  that  he  should  return  in  a  week  with 
William,  provided  the  lad  did  not  object  too  strong 
ly  to  the  trade  of  a  watchmaker.  He  felt  too  in 
dignant  towards  Peter,  and  too  much  disheartened 
by  his  strange  conduct,  to  wish  to  see  him  while  in 
the  city.  On  the  boy's  last  visit  home,  he  had  ob 
served  a  great  difference  in  him.  He  had  grown 
coarse  and  sensual  in  his  appearance,  instead  of 
being  refined  by  a  city  residence.  And,  moreover, 
did  not  appear  to  care  for  any  one  but  himself ;  nor 
did  he  take  any  interest  in  what  was  passing  at 
home.  His  mother's  health  had  failed  a  good  deal ; 
but  Peter  observed  no  change.  She  was  sick  for  a 
day  or  two,  but  he  manifested  no  sympathy.  Ere 
he  had  been  in  the  house  twenty-four  hours,  he 
quarreled  with  William ;  and  his  conduct  towards 
both  his  brothers  was  so  overbearing,  that  they  felt 
it  as  a  relief  when  he  went  back  to  the  city. 

All  this  was  remembered  by  Mr.  Close,  and  it  so 
disturbed  him,  and  aroused,  as  we  have  said,  such  in 
dignant  feelings  in  his  mind,  that  he  purposely  re 
frained  from  going  near  Peter,  as  well  to  rebuke 
him,  as  to  avoid  an  interview  that  could  only  have 
been  an  unpleasant  one. 


THE    WAY   TO    PROSPER.  59 


The  disappointment  to  William  Close  was  very 
great,  and,  moreover,  the  lad  was  hurt  at  his  brother's 
conduct  when  he  fully  understood  the  part  he  had 
acted — not  only  hurt,  hut  estranged  in  his  feelings. 
The  act  was  so  personal  to  himself,  that  his  love  of 
self  was  wounded,  and  the  more  he  thought  of  it, 
the  more  angry  and  indignant  did  he  become. 
Under  the  influence  of  this  feeling,  he  decided  to 
accept  the  place  offered  him,  and  learn  the  trade  of 
a  watchmaker.  In  a  week  after  the  return  of  Mr. 
Close  from  the  city,  he  went  back  with  William  and 
placed  him  in  the  shop  of  Mr.  Edgerton. 

Had  Mr.  Close  been  governed  by  his  feelings,  he 
would  have  returned  home  without  seeing  Peter. 
But  his  reason  condemned  this  as  wrong,  and  so, 
after  he  had  seen  Mr.  Edgerton  and  left  William 
in  his  care,  he  called  at  the  office  of  Mr.  Ludlow. 
Peter,  on  seeing  his  father,  had  so  strong  a  sense  of 
guilt  and  self-condemnation,  that  he  could  not  look 
him  in  the  face.  He  was  prepared,  however,  for  a 
severe  lecture.  In  the  reception  of  this,  he  was 
disappointed;  for  Mr.  Close  did  not  once  refer  to 
his  conduct,  nor  utter  a  word  of  reproof.  But,  he 
had  very  little  to  say,  and  his  coldness  and  reserve, 
as  well  as  the  gravity  of  his  manner,  told  the  boy 
but  too  well  what  was  in  his  mind. 

"  Your  brother  William,"  said  he  to  him,  "  I  have 
apprenticed  to  Mr.  Edgerton,  the  watchmaker.  I 
don't  know  that  it  is  worth  while  to  ask  you  to  have 
any  care  over  him.  I  suppose  he  can  make  his  own 
way  as  you  have  made  yours." 

Peter  hung  his  head  in  silence. 


60  THE   WAY   TO   PROSPER. 

"  I  shall  leave  town  in  an  hour,"  added  Mr.  Close. 
"  So  good  bye,"  and  he  extended  his  hand. 

The  boy  took  it,  but  there  was  no  reciprocal 
pressure — no  warmth  in  either  hand.  Mutually 
they  turned  from  each  other — the  father  with  a  sigh 
that  in  no  way  lightened  the  pressure  of  his  feelings ; 
the  son  with  a  sense  of  relief. 

When  evening  came,  Peter  called  to  see  William. 
Their  meeting  was  not  cordial ;  for  on  one  side  was 
the  sense  of  having,  and  on  the  other  side  that  of 
being,  wronged  ;  though  no  reference  was  made  to 
the  subject.  Thus  the  two  .brothers  went  out  into 
the  world,  without  feelings  of  sympathy  in  each 
other's  welfare ;  but,  rather  tending  to  estrange 
ment.  The  want  of  interest  manifested  by  Peter, 
took  from  him  the  power  to  influence  William  for 
good,  even  if  he  had  felt  a  real  concern  for  him. 
From  the  beginning,  therefore,  their  ways  diverged 
instead  of  running  in  a  parallel.  On  the  first  Sab 
bath  after  William's  arrival,  Peter  started,  early, 
for  a  ramble  with  three  or  four  companions,  scarcely 
thinking  of  his  brother,  who,  suffering  from  the  first 
sad  homesickness,  wandered  about  the  streets  of  a 
strange  city  without  seeing  an  object,  the  sight  of 
which  affected  him  with  pleasure  ;  and  when  even 
ing  came,  lonelier  and  still  sadder  in  heart,  he  went 
early  to  bed,  thinking  only  of  the  home  from  which 
he  had  gone  out,  and  to  which  he  was  never  more 
to  return,  except  as  a  brief  visitor,  and  there  wept 
himself  to  sleep. 

How  different  was  it  with  Victor  and  Hartley 
Stevens,  on  the  first  Sabbath  after  the  arrival  of 
the  latter  in  Boston  !  With  what  a  feeling  of  pride 


THE  WAY  TO   PROSPER.  61 

and  pleasure  did  the  former  take  his  brother  with 
him  and  introduce  him  into  the  Sunday  School,  and 
how  high  a  favor  did  he  esteem  it,  when  the  Super 
intendent,  at  his  earnest  request,  gave  Hartley  a 
seat  in  the  class  to  which  he  belonged  !  And  yet, 
in  connexion  with  Hartley's  coming  to  Boston, 
Victor  was  to  experience  a  severe  trial,  and  it  had 
been  foreshadowing  itself  in  his  mind  from  the  first. 
This  had  reference  to  his  own  intimacy  in  the 
family  of  Mrs.  Redmond.  The  introduction  of  Hart 
ley  to  this  family  might  not  be  pleasant ;  and,  even 
if  they  were  to  receive  him  kindly,  Victor  felt  that 
it  would  be  trespassing  on  good  nature  to  go  there 
with  his  brother,  regularly,  every  Sabbath  evening. 
But,  as  to  separating  himself  from  Hartley,  who 
would  be  thus  left  alone,  that,  to  Victor,  was  out  of 
the  question.  He  was  ready  to  meet  the  great  pri 
vation  for  the  sake  of  his  brother. 

After  the  dismissal  of  the  school,  at  the  close 
of  the  first  Sabbath,  William  and  Anna  Redmond 
and  Victor  and  Hartley  Stevens  walked  along  talk 
ing  pleasantly  together,  for  three  or  four  blocks. 
At  length  Victor  and  his  brother  paused  at  a  point 
where  the  ways  to  the  two  homes  diverged. 

"  What's  the  matter  ?"  asked  William,  in  surprise. 

"We're  going  home,"  said  Victor. 

"Home!" 

"Yes." 

"No.  You're  going  home  with  us,"  returned 
William. 

"  Oh  yes.  You  must  come ;  you  and  your  brother 
too,"  said  Anna,  looking  with  a  smile  of  invitation 
at  Hartley. 


62  THE  WAY  TO   PROSPER. 

"No,  I  thank  you,  not  this  evening,"  replied 
Victor.  "  We  must  go  home." 

It  was  in  vain  that  William  and  Anna  urged. 
Victor  was  firm  in  his  resolution.  When  they  at 
length  separated,  the  brother  and  sister  looked 
greatly  disappointed.  , 

"  Why  didn't  you  come  with  William  and  Anna  ?" 
asked  Mrs.  Redmond  of  Victor  on  the  next  morning, 
when  the  boy  called  with  his  bundle  of  clothes,  as 
usual,  for  the  wash. 

"  I  couldn't  leave  Hartley  alone,"  was  the  reply. 

*'  Of  course  not.  But  you  might  have  brought 
your  brother  along.  You  must  bring  him  on  next 
Sunday  afternoon." 

"  I  don't  know  that  it  would  be  right,"  said  Vic 
tor,  showing  some  embarrassment  of  manner. 

"  Why  not  ?"  asked  Mrs.  Redmond. 

"  Because  you  have  been  a  mother,  and  your 
house  another  home  to  me,"  replied  Victor,  his  voice 
slightly  trembling,  and  his  eyes  growing  dim  with 
moisture  ;  "  that  is  no  reason  why  you  should  care 
for  my  brother  in  the  same  way." 

The  good  sense,  manliness  and  right  feeling  dis 
played  in  this  answer,  filled  the  mind  of  Mrs.  Red 
mond  with  admiration  for  Victor. 

"  We  will  find  a  place  for  your  brother,"  was  the 
smiling  reply.  "  He  must  be  a  good  boy,  or  you 
would  not  feel  for  him  the  strong  regard  you  mani 
fest.  Bring  him  home  with  you  on  next  Sunday 
evening.  I  want  to  see  him." 

The  invitation  Victor  did  not  feel  it  right  to  de 
cline.  And  so,  on  the  next  Sunday  evening,  Hartley 


THE   WAY   TO   PROSPER.  63 

was  introduced  to  Mrs.  Redmond,  who  felt  a  prepos 
session  in  his  favor  as  soon  as  she  saw  him. 

"You  must  come  as  usual,"  said  she  to  Victor, 
when  he  was  going  away  that  evening. 

But  Victor  did  not  feel  free  to  do  this.  It  did 
not  seem  to  him  as  altogether  right.  During  the 
week,  he  debated  the  subject  in  his  mind,  viewing 
it  on  every  side.  When  the  next  Sunday  arrived, 
he  had  come  to  this  conclusion  ;  to  go  to  Mrs.  Red 
mond's,  with  Hartley,  every  other  Sunday  evening 
after  school ;  thus  making  a  kind  of  compromise. 
And  to  this  he  adkered  for  some  time,  though  not 
without  a  certain  sense  of  embarrassment.  As  for 
Hartley  he  was  not  long  in  winning  his  way  into 
the  kind  feelings  of  Mrs.  Redmond.  The  quiet 
unobtrusiveness  and  sincerity  of  his  character,  soon 
made  its  due  impression ;  and  only  a  few  months 
elapsed  before  she  felt  as  much  interest  in  him  as 
she  had  ever  felt  in  Victor,  and  before  the  boy 
loved  her  only  less  than  his  own  mother. 


CHAPTER  VH. 

As  Victor  Stevens  had  rightly  inferred,  he  was 
able  to  assist  and  protect  his  brother  in  many  ways 
during  his  trying  initiation  into  the  first  mysteries 
of  the  "  black  art,"  and  thus  lighten  the  burdens 
which  he,  with  all  his  endurance,  had  found,  some 
times,  almost  intolerable.  And  in  doing  this,  he 
was  careful  not  to  neglect  his  own  work,  nor  to 


THE   WAY    TO    PROSPEK. 


offend  any  in  the  office  by  an  injudicious  interference 
in  behalf  of  Hartley.  This  regard  for  his  younger 
brother  did  not,  of  course,  escape  the  notice  of  the 
master,  journeymen,  and  older  apprentices,  and  an 
involuntary  respect  for  the  lads  was  the  conse 
quence  ;  a  respect  that  saved  them  often  from  op 
pression.  Thus,  in  the  beginning,  they  experienced 
the  benefits  of  concord,  and  proved  the  truth  of  that 
saying,  so  apparent  to  all — "  In  union  there  is 
strength."  In  pulling  together,  the  draught  was 
made  easier.  In  mutual  regard,  the  burdens  they 
had  to  bear  were  found  to  be  lighter  than  if  each 
had  attempted  to  work  alone  in  selfish  regard  to  his 
own  ends  and  pleasures. 

It  was  different,  of  course,  with  the  two  brothers, 
Peter  and  William  Close.  For  the  former,  no  re- 
epect  was  felt  in  the  office  where  he  worked,  for 
there  was  nothing  about  him  that  inspired  respect ; 
and  he  was  constantly  suffering  some  kind  of  annoy 
ance,  arising  from  a  reaction  occasioned  by  his  own 
hard  points  of  character.  As  for  William,  the  poor 
lad  had  a  hard  time  of  it.  The  separation  from 
home  proved  a  most  painful  trial ;  the  more  so,  as, 
in  the  family  of  the  watchmaker,  where  he  lived,  he 
found  neither  sympathy  nor  companionship.  There 
was  one  other  apprentice,  a  boy  of  nineteen  years 
old,  who,  from  the  beginning,  showed  an  evil  plea 
sure  in  oppressing  and  annoying  the  friendless  lad ; 
and,  as  William's  feelings  were  naturally  acute,  he 
suffered  from  this  cause  severely.  For  the  first 
year  he  was  made  a  family  drudge.  He  cut  the 
wood,  made  the  fire,  brought  the  water,  cleaned 
knives,  carried  the  market  basket,  nursed  the  baby, 


THE   WAY  TO    PROSPER.  65 


and,  sometimes,  was  even  set  to  washing  windows 
and  scrubbing  floors.  If  he  complained  to  Peter  of 
any  thing,  he  received  no  sympathy ;  and  no  advice, 
except  when  he  told  him  of  what  the  older  boy  did 
to  him,  and  then  he  was  instigated  to  antagonism. 

"  Knock  him  down  with  the  first  thing  that  comes 
in  your  way,"  was  the  counsel  of  the  elder  brother. 
But  this  counsel  William  had  not  the  courage  to 
follow.  With  nothing  at  home  to  attract  him  there ; 
and  no  good  influences  to  inseminate  and  develop 
right  principles  as  a  protection  in  the  world,  Wil 
liam,  after  a  few  weeks  residence  in  the  city,  began 
to  look  around  him  for  some  one  or  more  with  whom 
he  could  have  fellowship.  Companions  were  not 
hard  to  find.  A  friendship  with  two  or  three  boys 
in  the  immediate  neighborhood  was  soon  formed, 
and  it  so  happened  that  they  were  able  to  induct 
him  into  all  the  little  vices  peculiar  to  a  city  life. 
William  was  not  a  very  apt  scholar  at  first.  He 
came  from  the  country  an  innocent-minded  lad,  and 
only  needed  to  have  his  feet  turned  into  right  paths. 
He  would  ha^ve  walked  in  them  willingly.  But  there 
was  no  one  to  point  the  way  ;  no  one  to  take  him 
by  the  hand  and  lead  him  in  the  right  direction. 
Had  Peter,  as  the  oldest,  been  a  different  boy,  life 
would  have  opened  for  him  with  a  better  promise. 
His  first  associates  determined  his  future.  They 
were  about  as  bad  as  they  could  well  be.  He  not 
only  learned  from  them  to  break  the  Sabbath,  and 
lounge  about  the  theatre  at  night,  but  to  frequent 
tippling  shops  where  the  vilest  people  congregate. 
In  order  to  get  money,  old  nails  and  scraps  of  iron 
were  gathered,  and,  when  opportunity  offered,  the 

6 


66  THE   WAY   TO   PROSPER. 


temptation  to  purloin  little  things  was  not  resisted. 
This  was  a  dreadful  school  for  a  lad  to  enter.  All 
that  was  good  and  innocent  in  the  rnind  of  William 
Close,  shrunk  from  the  first  contact  with  this ;  but 
little  by  little  the  weak  foundations  of  right  princi 
ples  were  destroyed,  and,  before  he  had  been  six 
months  in  Boston,  his  willing  feet  were  moving 
swiftly  in  the  way  to  destruction. 

Two  years  after  William  had  been  sent  to  Boston, 
Mr.  Close  received  a  letter  from  his  master  to 
the  effect,  that  his  son's  habits  had  become  so  bad 
as  seriously  to  incline  him  to  make  an  application 
for  the  cancelling  of  his  indentures.  "  He  runs," 
said  the  letter,  "with  the  fire  engines,  and  associates 
with  fire  rowdies,  and  the  very  worst  class  of  boys  in 
the  city.  Often  he  stays  out  all  night.  He  visits 
tippling  shops  and  the  theatre,  and  what  is  strangest 
of  all,  never  seems  to  be  without  money  to  spend. 
Where  he  gets  it  from  is  more  than  I  can  tell. 
Talking  to  him  does  no  good.  Punishment  avails 
as  little.  I  have  tried  both.  In  the  family,  he  is 
either  sulky  or  impudent ;  and  is  never  satisfied  with 
any  thing.  Unless  there  is  a  speedy  change  for 
the  better,  I  must  give  him  up  as  incorrigible.  I 
am  sorry  to  write  this  ;  but  justice  to  all  concerned 
makes  it  imperative." 

The  mother  of  William  had  not  been  in  good 
health  for  some  years.  Disease  had  fastened  upon 
her  lungs,  and  under  its  encroachment,  she  was 
gradually  but  surely  wasting  away.  Daily  some 
portion  of  her  strength  departed  ;  her  pulse  became 
feebler ;  her  step  slower  ;  and  her  face  whiter  and 
sadder.  Since  her  two  oldest  boys  had  left  home, 


THE  WAT  TO   PROSPER.  C7 

her  heart  had  been  weighed  down  by  a  new  feelir.g 
of  trouble,  for  she  had  little  rational  confidence  in 
them.  If  they  loved  her,  they  had  never  manifested, 
strongly,  their  affection.  Her  counsels,  when  op 
posed  to  their  passions  and  inclinations,  never  had 
much  apparent  weight.  Neither  love  nor  precept, 
therefore,  went  with  them  to  guard  and  guide  them 
on  their  dangerous  way.  All  this  the  mother  felt ; 
and  it  was  a  daily  increasing  pressure  upon  her  heart. 
Hopefully  she  could  not  look  forward.  Only  with 
trembling  did  she  let  her  eyes  go  fearfully  down 
the  future. 

Twice  a  year  the  boys  came  up  from  the  city  to 
spend  a  week  at  home  ;  but  in  not  one  of  these  visits 
had  the  mother's  heart  found  strength.  The  signs 
of  moral  declension  were  too  plainly  written  in  their 
faces ;  and  their  conduct,  while  at  home,  was  never 
of  a  character  to  make  their  presence  there  a  source 
of  real  pleasure.  Hope  in  her  sons,  had,  therefore, 
been  growing  weaker  and  weaker,  and  her  heart,  in 
consequence,  sadder  and  sadder. 

When  the  letter  of  Mr.  Edgerton  came,  she  was 
drooping  about  the  house,  scarcely  able  to  perform 
even  the  smallest  domestic  labor.  In  the  first  im 
pulse  of  his  feelings  the  excited  father  read  to  her 
the  distressing  contents.  The  mother  showed  little 
emotion ;  but  the  inward  shock  was  terrible.  A 
violent  chill  seized  her  soon  after,  and  she  went  to 
bed,  prostrate  both  in  body  and  mind.  A  fever 
succeeded  to  this,  and  when  the  doctor  was  sum 
moned,  he  pronounced  her  case  exceedingly  critical. 
A  week  of  anxious  suspense  followed :  then  a  dan 
gerous  crisis  was  passed,  and  the  mother  began 
7 


CS  THE   WAT   TO   PROSPER. 

slowly  to  recover.  But  she  did  not  come  back  even 
to  the  low  point  of  health  from  which  she  had  fallen ; 
and  was  never  afterwards  able  to  sit  up  more  than 
a  few  hours  in  each  day.  The  slightest  exertion 
started  the  perspiration  from  every  pore  ;  and  even 
a  cool  breath  of  summer  air  gave  her  cold. 

As  soon  as  his  wife  had  passed  this  crisis,  Mr. 
Close  went  to  Boston  to  see  Mr.  Edgerton  about 
William.  But  his  visit,  as  far  as  he  could  see,  re 
sulted  in  no  good.  The  master  had  a  great  many 
complaints  to  make  against  the  boy,  and  the  boy 
even  more  to  make  against  the  master.  As  to  the 
more  serious  allegations,  William  boldly  denied 
them.  Mr.  Close  saw,  plainly  enough,  that  there 
was  nothing  in  either  Mr.  Edgerton  or  his  family 
calculated  to  exercise  a  very  salutary  influence  over 
a  boy ;  and  hardly  wondered  that  his  son  should 
have  been  driven  away  into  evil  companionship. 
After  such  remonstrance  and  advice  as  the  occasion 
seemed  to  require,  Mr.  Close  went  back  to  his  home 
with  a  heavy  heart.  Scarcely  a  week  elapsed  after 
his  visit  to  Boston,  when  a  letter  came  from  Peter, 
conveying  the  afflicting  intelligence,  that  William  had 
been  detected  in  pilfering  money  from  his  master, 
who  had  handed  him  over  to  a  magistrate,  and  that 
he  was  now  in  prison. 

The  heart-broken  mother  heard  this  dreadful 
news  with  a  moan  of  bitter  anguish.  In  a  week 
they  bore  her  out,  and  laid  her  wasted  body  to  rest 
in  the  peaceful  grave.  The  unhappy  boy,  whose 
conduct  had  thus  snapped  asunder  a  feeble  thread 
of  life,  never  looked  upon  her  face  again.  Once,  in 
after  years,  he  stood  where  the  green  earth  was 


THE  WAY  TO   PROSPER.  69 

heaped  above  her  ashes ;  and  stood  there  with  the 
knowledge  that  his  conduct  had  hastened  and  made 
rough  her  passage  from  the  earth.  What  his  feel 
ings  were  we  will  not  attempt  to  describe.  May 
none  who  read  this  history  ever  know  them  from 
actual  experience ! 


/  X 

CHAPTER  VIII. 


ONE  day,  it  was  after  Hartley  Stevens  had  been 
nearly  two  years  in  Boston,  he  had  occasion  to  go 
to  the  office  of  Mr.  Ludlow,  where  he  met  Peter 
Close.  The  boys  had  seen  each  other  occasionally, 
ever  since  they  had  been  in  the  city,  but  never  had 
any  intimate  association. 

"Where  in  the  world  do  you  keep  yourself?" 
said  Peter,  on  meeting  Hartley.  "  I  havn't  seen 
you  for  an  age.  What  do  you  do  in  the  evenings  ?" 

"  Stay  at  home  and  read.  Or  walk  about. 
Or " 

"Read!  My  gracious  !  I'd  go  to  sleep  over  a 
book  after  standing  at  case  all  day." 

"  We  go  to  Meeting  one  night  in  every  week — 
Victor  and  I." 

"  Go  to  Meeting  through  the  week  !  Why,  that's 
more  than  I  do  on  Sundays.  Boys  who  have  to 
work  as  hard  as  we  do,  want  some  freedom  and 
pleasure.  Have  you  been  to  the  theatre  yet  ?" 

Hartley  shook  his  head. 

"Why  not?" 

6* 


70  THE   WAY   TO    PROSPER. 

"  It  isn't  a  good  place  for  boys." 

"  Who  says  so?" 

"Father  says  so.  And  so  does  my  Sunday 
school  teacher." 

"  Sunday  school  teacher  !  Oh,  dear  !  And  so 
you  are  a  Sunday  school  scholar  into  the  bargain  ! 
Dear  !  Dear  !  Dear !  Well,  that  does  beat  all ! 
Slave  like  a  dog  all  the  week,  and  then  be  shut  up 
in  a  m  jeting-house  and  school-room  all  the  day  on 
Sunday,  singing  hymns  and  reading  the  Bible! 
Well,  that  beats  me  out !  I  can  tell  you  what,  my 
boy,  I  wouldn't  let  them  coop  me  up  in  that  way," 
speaking  seriously  and  in  a  tone  of  advice.  "  Have 
you  had  a  sail  in  the  harbor  yet  ?" 

•"  No,"  replied  Hartley. 

"Why  I'm  off  sailing  almost  every  Sunday. 
And  you've  never  been  to  the  theatre  ?" 

"No." 

"  Well,  you  must  go  there.  Harm  !  I  wonder 
what  more  harm  there  is  in  seeing  Pizarro,  Hamlet, 
or  King  Lear,  than  in  reading  the  history  or  the 
plays  ?  Can  you  tell  me  where  it  lies  ?" 

Hartley  was  not,  of  course,  prepared  to  argue 
this  point.  He  refrained  from  going  to  the  theatre 
more  in  obedience  to  his  parents'  wishes  than  from 
any  other  reason.  He  had  a  vague  notion  of  some 
thing  wrong  in  the  thing  itself ;  but,  so  far  as  that 
went,  was  not  able  to  give  a  reason  for  his  conduct. 
His  silence  gave  Peter  confidence  in  his  own  posi 
tions,  and  encouraged  him  to  sap,  if  possible,  the 
foundations  of  the  boy's  integrity  of  character,  in 
at  least  this  matter  of  obedience  to  parental  in 
junctions. 


THE   WAY  TO   PROSPER.       .  71 

"  Of  course,"  went  on  Peter,  "  there  is  no  more 
harm  in  the  one  than  in  the  other.  I  wish  you 
would  just  go  once  and  see  and  judge  for  yourself. 
They  are  playing  Pizarro  now.  Oh  !  it  is  a  splendid 
thing.  Such  scenery !  Such  acting  !  Come  round 
to  our  house  to-night,  after  supper,  and  go  with 
me." 

But  Hartley  shook  his  head  positively,  and  said 
"No."  •&> 

"I  wish  you  would,"  urged  Peter.  "Just  once. 
I  want  you  to  see  for  yourself.  You  needn't  go 
any  more.  It  surely  can't  hurt  you  to  see  one 
play." 

"I'll  think  about  it,"  said  Hartley,  in  whose  mind 
a  struggle  was  already  beginning  to  arise ;  and  as 
he  spoke,  he  broke  away  from  his  tempter  and 
went  back  to  Mr.  Preston's  office,  from  whence  he 
had  come  on  an  errand. 

The  words  of  Peter  lingered  in  the  mind  of 
Hartley.  As  he  went  home  to  his  dinner,  the  large 
bills  on  the  corners  attracted  his  attention  more 
than  they  had  ever  done.  The  word  "  Pizarro " 
had  for  him  a  new  interest,  as  it  stood  forth  most 
prominently.  He  could  not  pause  to  read  the  bills, 
for  Victor  was  with  him ;  and  not  for  the  world 
would  he  have  had  him  know  what  was  passing  in 
his  mind. 

On  the  next  day  Hartley  was  again  sent  to  the 
office  of  Mr.  Ludlow,  where  he  again  met  Peter 
Close. 

"  Well,  Hartley,"  said  Peter,  "  have  you  made  up 
your  mind  to  go  and  see  Pizarro?" 

Hartley  shook  his  head. 


72  THE  WAY  TO   PROSPER. 

"  You  still  think  it  harm  ?"  remarked  Peter. 

"  I  don't  know  that  there  is  any  great  harm  in 
it,"  replied  Hartley.  "  But  my  father  doesn't  wish 
me  to  go  to  the  theatre." 

"  He'll  know  nothing  about  it." 

"Yes,  but  I  will,"  said  Hartley.  "  I  will  know 
that  I  disobeyed  him." 

"  Oh  dear !  And  will  that  keep  you  awake  at 
night  ?" 

"Perhaps." 

"I'd  never  sleep  a  wink -if  such  were  the  case 
with  me.  But  it  isn'tr  because  your  father  believes 
theatrical  performances  to  be  wrong  in  themselves 
that  he  does  not  wish  you  to  see  them.  He's  afraid 
of  the  bad  company.  But  you  needn't  go  into  that. 
You've  got  sense  and  discretion  enough  to  go  and 
come  without  speaking  to  any  one." 

This  argument  had  some  influence  upon  the  mind 
of  Hartley.  Peter  then  gave  him  some  brief  but 
glowing  descriptions  of  things  heard  and  seen  upon 
the  stage,  all  of  which  helped  to  increase  an  already 
formed  desire  to  witness  a  play,  and  to  weaken  the 
boy's  good  resolutions. 

For  several  days  it  so  happened  that  Mr.  Preston 
had  occasion  to  send  Hartley  to  the  office  of  Mr. 
Ludlow,  and  each  time  he  met  Peter,  who  introduced 
the  subject  of  the  theatre.  The  consequence  was, 
that  the  mind  of  Hartley  became  so  haunted  with 
the  idea  of  seeing  a  play,  that  he  could  hardly  sleep 
when  he  went  to  his  bed.  At  length  the  words 
"  Last  night  of  Pizarro  "  stared  him  in  the  face  as 
he  went,  one  morning,  to  the  office.  Peter  had 
filled  his  mind  with  a  desire  to  see  this  particular 


THE   WAY  TO    PROSPER.  73 

play,  and  this  announcement  brought  his  mind  into 
the  final  struggle  in  which  he  was  to  maintain  the 
integrity  of  his  purposes,  or  fall  away.  Of  the 
temptation  to  which  he  was  subjected,  Victor  knew 
nothing ;  for,  to  mention  it  to  him  would  have  been, 
equivalent  to  a  settlement  of  the  whole  question. 
And,  moreover,  he  did  not  wish  his  brother  to  know 
that  he  had  even  thought  of  the  theatre  with  the 
desire  to  go  there.  During  the  whole  day,  the 
question  of  seeing  Pizarro  that  night  disturbed  his 
mind.  He  was  to  be  alone  in  the  evening,  for  Vic 
tor  was  going  out.  The  way  was,  therefore,  all  open. 
He  was  free,  so  far  as  external  influences  were  con 
cerned,  to  gratify  the  desire  he  had  to  see  a  play, 
or  to  act  from  his  convictions  of  right. 

Supper  passed,  and  Victor  went  out.  To  go,  or 
not  to  go — this  was  the  important  question  that 
now  came  up  in  the  mind  of  Hartley,  and  called 
for  a  quick  decision.  In  half  an  hour  the  curtain 
would  rise.  He  had  looked  at  the  bills  close 
enough  to  be  advised  of  that  fact.  The  more  he 
debated  the  question,  the  more  confused  did  his 
mind  become,  and  the  more  obscured  his  perceptions 
of  right. 

"I'm  sure  there  is  no  harm  in  just  going  once," 
said  the  boy  to  himself.  "  What  is  the  harm  ?" 

At  last  the  decision  was  made  by  a  kind  of  forced 
mental  effort.  Something  like  a  man  who  takes  a 
leap  in  the  dark,  Hartley  shut  the  eyes  of  his 
mind  to  all  the  suggestions  of  right,  and  started 
forth  to  visit  the  theatre.  That  he  did  not  feel 
very  comfortable  may  be  supposed,  for  the  voice  of 
conscience  was  not  entirely  silent.  Still,  he  passed 


74  THE  WAY  TO   PROSPER. 

on,  hurriedly,  towards  the  playhouse,  and  in  a  few 
minutes  arrived  in  front  of  the  building,  before 
which  large  lamps  were  making  all  nearly  as  light 
as  day,  and  into  which  a  crowd  of  persons  was  pass 
ing.  To  pause,  now,  would  have  been  to  enter 
into  a  new  and  more  painful  struggle.  A  perception 
of  this  was  in  the  boy's  thoughts;  and,  therefore,  he 
kept  his  mind  above  reflection ;  or,  rather,  chained 
down  below  it'.  Going  up,  without  hesitation,  to 
the  ticket  office,  he  paid  for  a  ticket  to  the  pit,  and 
then  passed  through  the  door  that  opened  into  the 
avenue  leading  to  that  part  of  the  house.  The  first 
crash  of  the  orchestral  instruments  jarred  upon  his 
already  highly  strung  nerves  as  the  door  closed  be 
hind  him,  and  he  found  himself  in  a  dimly  lighted 
passage  way.  A  sight  of  the  gorgeously  painted 
curtain  had  not  yet  made  its  appeal,  even  stronger 
than  the  music,  when,  before  the  eyes  of  Hartley 
arose,  distinct  as  if  it  were  a  real  vision,  the 
forms  of  his  father  and  mother,  and  their  strict  in 
junctions  not  to  visit  the  theatre  sounded  in  his 
ears.  He  paused  suddenly.  It  seemed  as  if  his 
parents  must  know  what  he  was  doing  and  be  over 
whelmed  with  grief  at  his  disobedience.  With 
this  thought  came  a  strong  sense  of  the  evil  of  dis 
obedience. 

"  I  will  not  go,"  said  he,  with  a  quickly  formed 
resolution,  turning,  as  he  spoke,  and  hurrying  back 
along  the  way  he  had  come.  When  he  reached  the 
open  air,  and  ran  down  the  steps  of  the  theatre  into 
the  street,  he  panted  like  one  who  had  been  sud 
denly  brought  from  an  exhausted  into  a  pure  and 
healthy  atmosphere.  A  heavy  weight  seemed  lifted 


THE   WAT  TO   PROSPER.  75 

from  his  bosom ;  and  with  a  feeling  of  thankfulness 
that  he  had  been  able  to  resist  the  temptation,  he 
returned  home  with  sober  feelings.  On  arriving 
there,  he  found  that -Victor  had  unexpectedly  come 
back. 

Had  Hartley  spent  the  evening  at  the  theatre,  he 
could  not  have  concealed  it  from  his  brother  without 
a  falsehood,  and  this  it  was  impossible  for  him  to 
utter.  As  it  was,  he  avoided  looking  him  steadily 
in  the  face  when  they  met,  and  was  not  at  all  re 
lieved  in  mind  until  he  found  himself  in  the  darkness 
of  his  little  attic  chamber,  alone  upon  his  pillow. 

It  was  his  first  and  last  temptation,  so  far  as  the 
theatre  was  concerned. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

AFTER  Victor  and  Hartley  had  left  home,  affairs 
took  a  rather  more  favorable  turn  with  Mr.  Stevens. 
A  difference  of  some  two  hundred  dollars  in  his 
annual  expense  soon  enabled  him  to  pay  off  the 
whole  of  the  mortgage  on  his  little  place.  This 
encouraged  him.  He  was  next  able  to  conduct  his 
farming  operations  on  a  less  contracted  and  exhaust 
ing  scale.  The  benefit  of  this  was*soon  apparent. 
His  fields  produced  a  third  more  to  the  acre ;  his 
stock  was  improved  in  quality  and  increased  in 
numbers  ;  while  every  thing  around  him  had  the  air 
of  thrift  and  comfort. 

About  the  time  Victor  attained  his  eighteenth 


76  THE  WAY   TO   PROSPER. 

year — being  then  a  well-grown  boy,  taller  than 
some  men — he  came  home  with  his  brother  on  a 
short  visit.  In  his  round  pepper-and-salt  jacket, 
and  coarse  cassinet  trowsers,  he  did  not  present  a 
very  elegant  appearance.  But  his  narrow  income 
would  not  afford  a  broadcloth  coat.  Mr.  Stevens 
pitied  his  son,  when  he  saw  how  rapidly  he  was 
shooting  up  to  the  stature  of  a  man,  without  being 
able  to  dress  in  any  way  becoming  the  appearance 
of  a  man. 

"  I  think,  Victor,"  said  he  to  him,  a  day  or  two 
after  he  came  home,  "  that  I  must  help  you  a  little 
with  your  clothes.  Thirty  dollars  is  a  sum  too  small 
to  procure  you  what  you  really  ought  to  have  at 
your  age." 

But  the  boy  shook  his  head,  and  said — 

"No,  father.  I  set  out  to  support  myself,  and  I 
wish  to  do  it.  Only  three  years  more  will  pass  be 
fore  I  am  through  with  my  apprenticeship,  and  then 
I  will  be  able  to  buy  what  I  want.  I  am  only  a  boy 
BOW  and  must  be  content  with  a  boy's  clothing. 
When  I  am  a  man,  I  can  afford  to  dress  as  a  man. 
I  would  much  rather  you  would  help  Hartley  a  little. 
Somehow  or  other  his  clothes  wear  out  faster  than 
mine." 

Mr.  Stevens  was  touched  by  the  noble  indepen 
dence  and  brotherly  affection  of  his  son. 

"It  shall  be  as  you  wish,  Victor,"  he  replied. 
"  I  will  help  Hartley." 

And  he  helped  Victor  also,  although  he  was  not 
aware  of  the  fact  until  after  he  became  free.  It 
was  done  through  the  kind  Mrs.  Redmond,  to  whom 
Mr.  Stevens  frequently  sent  presents  of  fruit  and 


THE   WAY   TO    PROSPER.  77 

other  things,  the  product  of  his  farm,  and  upon 
whom  he  always  called  when  business. took  him  to 
Boston.  In  her  hands  he  occasionally  placed  small 
sums  of  money  to  be  expended  for  the  boys,  but  with 
the  strict  injunction  that  Victor  should  not  be  made 
aware  of  the  fact,  so  far  as  himself  was  concerned. 

Not  once,  from  the  time  Hartley  came  to  the  city 
to  be  the  fellow  apprentice  and  companion  of  his 
brother,  had  there  been  a  jar  of  discord  between 
them.  When  not  at  work,  it  was  rarely  that  you 
saw  one  without  the  other.  They  walked  out,  or 
remained  and  read  together  at  home  during  evenings. 
They  sat  beside  each  other  on  Sunday  in  the  Sabbath 
School,  or  at  church.  They  advised  with  and  helped 
each  other  in  any  difficulties  that  happened  to  arise. 
They  were,  in  fact,  united  in  every  thing,  and  hap 
pier,  of  course,  a  thousand  times  happier,  than  if 
there  had  been  selfishness,  division  arid  discord. 

And  so  the  years  moved  slowly  on,  bringing 
nearer  and  nearer  the  time  when  the  oldest  brother 
would  be  free.  At  twenty  Victor  was  a  tall  and 
stout  young  man.  Notwithstanding  the  little  addi 
tions  secretly  made  to  his  income  by  his  father,  and 
notwithstanding  that  new  shirts  and  stockings  came 
always  in  time  of  need  from  his  mother,  yet  the  ex 
ternal  appearance  of  Victor  was  far  from  being  in 
correspondence  with  his  age,  size,  and  the  associates, 
which  his  position  as  a  Sabbath  school  teacher — to 
which  post  he  had  been  appointed  when  eighteen 
years  of  age — drew  around  him. 

Among  those  who  had  observed  V'ctor  for  some 
years,  was  a  merchant  tailor  in  good  circumstances, 
named  Acker,  who  taught  a  class  in  the  Sabbath 
7 


78  THE   WAY  TO   PROSPER. 

School  to  which  he  was  attached.  This  man 
often  noticed  his  plain  attire,  and  pitied  him  on  that 
account.  About  the  time  Victor  reached  his  twen 
tieth  year,  Mr.  Acker  said  to  him,  as  they  were 
passing  from  the  Sabbath  School  room  one  day. 

"  Call  around  to  see  me  to-morrow  evening.  I've 
something  to  say  to  you." 

Wondering  what  Mr.  Acker  could  want  with  him, 
Victor  called  at  his  shop  on  Monday  evening,  and 
was  received  with  marked  kindness  of  manner. 

"  How  old  are  you  now,  Victor  ?"  asked  the  tailor, 
Boon  after  the  young  man  came  in,  breaking  off  for 
some  common-place  observations  that  were  at  first 
made. 

"  I  was  twenty  last  month,"  replied  Victor. 

"  Then  you  will  be  out  of  your  time  in  a  year  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  You're  a  printer,  I  believe  ?" 

"  Yes  sir." 

"  Do  you  like  the  trade  ?" 

"  Oh,  yes,  very  well." 

"  How  much  can  a  good  journeyman  earn  a 
week  ?" 

"  From  eight  to  twelve  dollars." 

"  How  much  do  you  expect  to  earn  ?" 

"  Ten  dollars,  at  least." 

"  That  will  be  very  good.  You  ought  to  save 
money  on  such  wages." 

"  I  expect  to  do  so." 

"  Ya$  intend  going  into  business,  I  suppose,  at 
some  time  or  other  ?" 

"  Gh,  yes.     By  the  time  my  brother  Hartley  is 


THE   WAT   TO    PROSPER.  79 

out  of  his  time,  I  hope  to  have  money  enough  saved 
to  buy  a  small  office. 

"  You  desire,  then,  that  he  shall  be  your  part 
ner  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir.  We  mean  to  begin  the  world  together. 
In  union  there  is  strength,  you  know." 

"•Very  true,"  said  Mr.  Acker,  with  a  smile  of 
approval. 

"  How  much  does  Mr.  Preston  allow  you  for 
clothing  ?"  he  inquired,  a  moment  afterwards. 

"  Thirty  dollars,"  replied  Victor. 

"  Too  little  for  a  young  man  of  your  age." 

As  Mr.  Acker  said  this,  he  glanced  at  the  coarse 
garments  of  Victor. 

"It  isn't  enough,  I  know,"  replied  Victor.  "  But 
it's  all  Mr.  Preston  agreed  to  pay,  and  I  have  no 
right  to  expect  more.  A  year  will  soon  pass  away, 
and  then  I  can  buy  such  clothing  as  I  need." 

Mr.  Acker  mused  for  some  time. 

"  I'll  tell  you  what  I've  been  thinking  about,"  he 
then  said.  "  You  are  as  large  now  as  a  man,  and 
circumstances  have  brought  you  into  association  with 
young  men  who  all  dress  much  better  than  you  do. 
Of  course,  you  see  and  feel  this ;  and  it  cannot  but  be 
mortifying  to  your  feelings.  Now,  suppose  I  make 
you  up  a  good,  but  not  very  costly  suit  of  clothes, 
say  for  thirty-five  dollars,  and  let  you  pay  me  for 
them  after  you  are  free.  What  do  you  say  to 
that  ?" 

Victor's  face  instantly  flushed.     He  felt  confused. 

The  desire  to  have  better  clothes  had  been  increased 

by  what  the  tailor  said,  and  here  was  the  ofier  to 

have  the  desire  gratified.     But  then,  it  came  bur- 

8 


80  THE-  WAY   TO   PROSPER. 

dened  with  the  idea  of  debt.  He  must  make  a  draft 
upon  his  future  labor. 

"  Well,  what  do  you  say  to  it  ?"  repeated  Mr. 
Acker,  seeing  that  Victor  made  no  response  to  the 
proposition. 

u  I  think  I'd  better  go  on  as  I  am,"  said  Victor, 
in  a  serious  voice. 

;<  Why  so  ?" 

"  I  don't  want  to  go  in  debt." 

"  You  needn't  feel  it  as  a  debt.  I  won't  even 
charge  it  on  my  books.  You  shall  be  perfectly  free 
to  pay  when  it  is  most  convenient.  I'm  not  afraid 
to  trust  you." 

Victor  shook  his  head. 

"  I'm  sure  my  father  wouldn't  approve  of  it ;  and 
it  doesn't  seem  right  to  me.  I  think  I'd  better 
'  tough  '  it  out  for  the  year,  and  take  a  fair  start  in 
the  world.  I'm  sure  I  would'nt  feel  comfortable 
with  a  fine  suit  of  clothes  on  my  back  not  paid  for  ; 
and  I  know  my  father  wouldn't  be  pleased  to  see 
me  wearing  them.  He  has  warned  me  against  going 
in  debt  for  any  thing.  A  young  man,  says  he,  who 
begins  the  world  in  debt  fifty  dollars,  will  be  most 
likely  to  remain  in  debt  all  his  life." 

"I  don't  know  but  your  father  is  right,"  said 
Mr.  Acker.  "  It  is  bad  to  go  in  debt.  But  isn't 
he  able  to  assist  you  a  little  ?" 

"  He  has  other  children  to  support,  and  I  prefer 
taking  care  of  myself.  He  did  offer  to  help  me, 
but  I  wasn't  willing  to  accept  any  thing  from  him." 

"Why  not?" 

*'  He  supported  me  until  I  was  fourteen,  and 
gave  me  my  schooling.  That  was  a  good  deal. 


THE  WAY  TO   PROSPER.  81 

Since  that  time,  I  have  been  able  to  earn  m  j  own 
living,  and  it  is  but  right  that  I  should  continue  to 
do  so.  He  is  getting  old,  and  ought  to  be  laying 
up  something.  I  wouldn't  feel  right  about  it,  if  I 
were  to  touch  a  dollar  of  his  hard  earnings.  It 
won't  be"  long  before  I'm  free.  I  have  stood  it  so 
long,  and  I  can  easily  stand  it  for  another  year. 
For  your  very  kind  offer,  Mr.  Acker,  don't  think 
me  ungrateful.  But,  I  am  sure  it  would  not  be 
right  for  me  to  accept  it." 

"I  cannot  but  admire  your  manly  independence," 
said  Mr.  Acker.  "  Hold  fast  to  this  spirit,  and  your 
Buecess  in  life  is  certain.  Yes,  debt  is  a  bad  thing 
for  a  young  man  to  begin  the  world  with.  Hun 
dreds  have  ruined  their  prospects  in  life  by  forestall 
ing  their  future  efforts.  It  is  best,  as  you  say,  for 
you  to  go  as  you  are.  A  year  will  soon  roll  around, 
and  then  you  will  be  prepared  to  make  a  fair  start 
in  the  world.  That  you  will  be  successful,  there  is 
not,  in  my  mind,  the  shadow  of  a  doubt." 

The  temptation  offered  by  Mr.  Acker  was  greater 
than  he  supposed,  and  the  amount  of  resistance  in 
the  mind  of  the  young  man  more  than  was  apparent. 
Victor  had,  on  more  than  one  occasion,  been  made 
aware  that  his  coarse  clothes  stood  in  the  way  of 
his  social  pleasures.  He  never  walked  in  the  street 
on  Sunday  with  Anna  Redmond,  that  he  did  not 
feel  his  appearance  as  being  little  less  than  disgrace 
ful  to  his  neatly-dressed  companion  ;  and  he  more 
frequently  avoided  accompanying  her  home  from 
Church  or  Sabbath  school,  than  he  availed  himself 
of  the  privilege  of  being  in  her  society. 

Several  times  there  had  been  company  at  the 


82  THE   WAY  TO    PROSPER. 

house  of  Mrs.  Redmond,  but  though  strongly  urged 
to  come,  Victor  had  avoided  doing  so  because  his 
appearance  would  contrast  so  strongly  with  that 
of  others  who  would  be  there,  as  to  make  him  feel 
uncomfortable. 

About  a  week  after  the  interview  with  the  tailor, 
just  mentioned,  Mr.  Preston  said  to  Victor,  who 
came  into  his  little  office  to  ask  him  some  question 
about  a  work  that  was  in  his  hands — 

"  How  old  are  you  now  ?" 

"I  was  twenty  last  month." 

-"Nearly  a  man  in  age  and  fully  a  man  in  size. 
You  are  aware,  Victor,  that,  according  to  your  in 
dentures,  you  are  to  be  furnished  with  a  new  suit  of 
clothes  when  free  ?." 

Victor  replied  in  the  affirmative. 

"  A  good  Sunday  suit,  if  you  had  it  now,  would 
not  only  last  you  through  the  balance  of  your 
time,  but  for  six  months  afterward,  if  you  were 
careful  not  to  abuse  it.  Suppose  I  give  you  the 
clothes  at  this  time,  instead  of  waiting  until  you 
are  free  ?" 

"I  would  feel  it  as  a  great  favor,"  replied  Vic 
tor. 

"  Very  well.  You  have  always  been  a  good  and 
faithful  boy,  and  it  will  afford  me  pleasure  to  anti 
cipate  this  matter.  As  you  go  to  dinner,  stop  in 
here  and  I  will  give  you  orders  for  a  suit  of  clothes, 
a  hat  and  a  pair  of  boots." 

Victor  thanked  his  master  for  this  act  of  kind 
ness,  and  went  back  to  his  work  with  a  pleasant 
warmth  in  his  bosom,  such  as  he  had  not  for  a  long 
time  felt. 


THE  WAY  TO   PROSPER.  88 

The  order  for  clothes  was  upon  Mr.  Acker,  who 
appeared  even  more  pleased  at  receiving  it  than 
Victor  was  in  placing  it  in  his  hands.  Victor  had 
his  own  suspicions  touching  Mr.  Acker's  agency  in 
the  matter,  and  he  was  not  far  out  of  the  way. 


CHAPTER  X. 

A  FEW  evenings  after  Victor  had  received  this 
reward  for  his  good  conduct,  he  met  Peter  Close, 
as  he  was  coming  home  from  his  work.  Peter  had 
a  shabby  look  and  a  discontented  air.  The  small 
sum  received  for  his  clothing  was  injudiciously 
spent,  and,  therefore,  proved  more  inadequate  to 
the  comfortable  supply  of  things  needed  than  even 
the  income  of  Victor.  The  different  appearance  in 
the  two  young  men,  who  were  nearly  of  the  same 
age,  was  striking  enough. 

"  How  are  you,  Peter  ?"  said  Victor,  extending 
his  hand. 

"  Only  so  so,"  replied  Peter,  moodily. 

"  A'n't  you  well  ?" 

"Not  in  mind." 

"  What's  the  matter  ?" 

"  I  feel  mad  all  the  time." 

"  Why  so  !" 

"  Just  look  at  me  !  Here  I  am,  earning  Ludlow 
at  least  ten  dollars  every  week,  and  yet  the  mean 
rascal  keeps  me  in  this  condition.  He  knows  as 
well  as  I  do,  that  thirty  dollars  is  not  half  enough 
to  buy  clothes  for  a  young  man  of  my  age." 


84  THE   WAY  TO   PROSPER. 

"  It's  all  I  receive,  Peter.  And  it  is  all  he 
agreed  to  give  you  when  you  were  bound." 

"I  don't  care.  I  was  a  mere  boy  then,  and 
didn't  know  any  thing  about  what  it  cost  for 
clothes.  But  he  knew,  and  took  advantage  of  my 
ignorance." 

"  It  is  not  enough,  certainly,"  replied  Victor, 
"  but  then  it  does  no  good  to  fret  over  it.  In  less 
than  a  year  you  will  be  free." 

"  A  year !  I'll  be  free  in  less  than  a  week,  if 
there  isn't  a  very  great  change  for  the  better,"  said 
Peter,  with  an  angry  emphasis  in  his  tones. 

Victor  looked  astonished. 

'-'  The  fact  is,"  continued  Peter,  "he's  had  enough 
out  of  me,  and  more  than  enough.  I  earned  as 
much  as  he  gave  me  from  the  first  day  I  entered 
his  office ;  and  for  three  years  I  have  taken  the 
place  of  a  journeyman.  And  yet  he  won't  give 
me  decent  clothes  to  my  back.  There'll  have  to  be 
a  change,  I  can  tell  you — a  very  great  change,  or 
he  and  I  will  dissolve  partnership.  I'm  determined 
on  that." 

"  Don't  think  of  such  a  thing  for  an  instant," 
said  Victor  Stevens,  in  reply.  "  Put  up  with  any 
thing  rather  than  leave  your  place  before  your  time 
is  out.  An  apprentice  boy  who  leaves  his  master 
never  does  well." 

"  I  can  earn  ten  dollars  a  week  at  press  in  any 
office  in  the  country.  That's  well  enough  for  me." 

"But  the  disgrace  of  leaving  your  master  will 
follow  you  wherever  you  go  ?" 

"  Disgrace  !    I  wonder  what  disgrace  there  will 


THE   WAY   TO   PROSPER.  85 

be  in  leaving  a  selfish,  tyrannical  old  rascal  like 
Ludlow?" 

"  It  is  always  considered  disgraceful  for  an  ap 
prentice  to  leave  his  master." 

"  I  know  it  is,  hy  masters." 

"  It  is  by  every  one." 

"I -teg  your  pardon." 

"  Besides,  it  is  not  right,"  urged  Victor.  "  A 
contract  is  as  binding,  in  honor  and  justice,  on  a 
boy,  as  it  is  on  a  man.  The  agreement  was  for  you 
to  stay  with  Mr.  Ludlow  until  you  were  twenty-one 
years  of  age  ;  for  him  to  pay  your  board  during  the 
time,  and  give  you  thirty  dollars  with  which  to 
clothe  yourself.  Beyond  that,  you  have  no  right 
to  expect  any  thing.  So  long  as  Mr.  Ludlow  per 
forms  his  part  of  the  contract,  you  are  bound  tc 
perform  yours." 

"  I'll  take  all  the  consequences  of  breaking  it," 
said  Peter,  tossing  his  head. 

"  They  will,  no  doubt,  prove  far  more  serious 
than  you  imagine." 

"  I'm  not  afraid.  Nothing  can  be  worse  than 
the  present.  I  feel  my  situation  to  be  intolerable. 
I  have  no  comfort,  and  nothing  to  encourage  me,'* 

"I  fear,"  said  Victor,  "that  you  have  not  had 
the  best  associates  and  advisers  in  the  world." 

Peter  tossed  his  head  half  contemptuously,  and 
replied  that  he  believed  he  was  entirely  competent 
to  advise  himself. 

After  Victor  had  urged  him  strongly  not  to  think 
of  leaving  his  place  until  he  was  free,  the  two  young 
men  separated. 

On  the  next  day,  while  Mr.  Ludlow  was  sitting 


86  THE   "WAT  TO   PROSPER. 

at  his  desk,  Peter  came  to  him,  and  with  a  certain 
manner  that  annoyed  the  master,  said — 

"Mr.  Ludlow,  can't  you  allow  me  something 
more  for  my  clothes  ?" 

"  I  allow  you  what  I  agreed  to  give  when  you 
were  bound,  and  just  what  the  other  boys  receive." 

"  It  isn't  enough,"  said  Peter.  "  My  clothes  are 
so  shabby  that  I'm  hardly  decent  to  appear  in  the 
Btreet." 

"  Your  own  fault,  I  presume.  From  the  com 
pany  you  keep,  I  should  suppose  that  over  one-half 
your  money  was  spent  for  other  purposes  than 
clothes." 

"  It  is  not  so,"  replied  Peter,  in  a  rough,  insulting 
way,  eyeing  Mr.  Ludlow  with  an  angry  look. 

"  See  here,  young  man  !"  said  the  printer,  rising 
from  his  seat,  and  returning  the  steady  look  of  his 
apprentice.  "  Do  you  go  immediately  to  the  press 
room,  and  resume  your  work,  or  I'll  send  for  a  police 
officer,  and  have  you  flogged." 

Peter  had  seen  his  master  excited  more  than  once 
during  his  apprenticeship,  and  knew  that  he  was  not 
a  man  to  hesitate  in  an  emergency.  That  he  could 
have  him  flogged  by  a  police  officer  for  refractory 
conduct,  he  well  knew,  as  the  thing  had  been  more 
than  once  done  within  his  knowledge.  A  moment's 
reflection  gave  him  to  see  that  he  was  in  a  wrong 
position.  So  grinding  his  teeth  with  anger,  and 
glancing  a  look  of  defiance  upon  his  master,  he 
retreated  to  the  press  room  and  resumed  his  work. 

Mr.  Ludlow,  on  cooling  off  and  reflecting  on  the 
subject,  came  to  the  conclusion  that  it  would  be 
better,  as  a  matter  of  prudence,  to  be  more  liberal 


THE   WAT  TO   PROSPER.  87 

with  Peter  in  the  article  of  clothing ;  for  if  he 
should  be  tempted  to  run  away  from  him,  he  would 
lose  his  labor  for  a  year — labor  that  would  cost  him 
about  two  hundred  dollars,  and  could  not  be  re 
placed  for  less  than  four  or  five  hundred.  He  was 
fretted  and  annoyed  at  the  boy's  insolent  manner ; 
but  a  prudent  regard  for  his  own  interest  led  him 
to  stifle  his  feelings.  On  his  way  home  to  dinner, 
he  stopped  at  his  tailor's  and  selected  a  suit  of  gray 
cloth  for  Peter. 

"  I  will  send  him  to  get  measured  this  evening," 
said  Mr.  Ludlow. 

But  Peter  did  not  return  to  the  office  after  dinner ; 
and  when  Mr.  Ludlow  sent  for  him  towards  sun 
down,  to  tell  him  to  go  to  the  tailor's  and  get 
measured  for  a  suit  of  clothes,  he  heard  to  his 
surprise,  that  he  had  not  been  to  work  during  the 
afternoon.  In  the  evening  he  called  at  his  boarding 
house,  and  learned  that  he  had  not  been  there  since 
breakfast  time.  Information  was  given  to  the  po 
lice  on  the  next  morning,  Peter  not  having  returned 
during  the  night.  But  the  search  for  him  proved 
fruitless. 

When  Peter  Close  left  the  office  at  dinner  time, 
he  did  not  go  home,  as  usual,  to  his  boarding  house, 
but  took  his  way  direct  to  the  wharves.  At  one  of 
these  was  lying  a  vessel  which  had  been  loading  for 
Charleston,  South  Carolina,  during  the  week,  and 
with  the  captain  of  which,  Peter,  in  lounging  about 
the  wharves  on  Sunday,  had  become  acquainted. 

"  Got  holiday  to-day,"  said  the  captain,  famil 
iarly,  as  Peter  stepped  on  board. 


88  THE   WAY  TO    PROSPER. 

.  "  Yes,  and  likely  to  have  it  for  some  time,"  re 
plied  Peter. 

"  How  so  ?" 

"  I'm  out  of  my  timel" 

"  The  deuce  you  are  !" 

"  Yes,  I'm  free  to-day.  And  a  pretty  looking 
fellow  I  am  to  be  free.  Not  a  decent  shirt  to  my 
back !" 

*'  Your  master's  bound  to  give  you  a  freedom 
suit,"  said  the  captain. 

"And  he  was  bound,  also,  to  keep  me  decent 
while  I  was  an  apprentice.  But  he  didn't  do  it." 

"  You  can  compel  him  to  give  you  a  freedom 
suit.  Your  indentures  call  for  it." 

"  I've  no  friends  to  stand  up  for  me." 

"  Stand  up  for  yourself.  Go  to  the  police-office 
and  make  your  complaint." 

"  That's  all  easy  enough  to  talk  about.  My 
master  would  make  his  own  statement,  and  tell  fifty 
plausible  lies  against  me.  Do  you  think  a  poor 
devil  in  the  plight  that  I  am  could  get  justice?  Not 
here,  let  me  tell  you." 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  ?" 

"Get  out  of  the  cursed  place  by  the  quickest 
conveyance." 

"  Can't  you  get  work  here  T' 

"  No.  Every  office  is  filled  with  boys.  I  could 
name  you  over  twenty  journeymen  who  are  walking 
the  streets  with  their  hands  in  their  pockets." 

*'  That's  a  hard  case,  certainly.  Won't  the  man 
you  served  your  time  with  give  you  work  ?" 

"  No.  I  quarrelled  with  him  about  clothes,  and 
he  ordered  me  out  of  the  office." 


THE  WAY  TO   PEOSPEK.  89 

The  captain,  not  a  very  acute  observer  of  human 
nature,  believed  all  this,  and  felt  compassion  for 
Peter. 

"  Printers  get  good  wages  and  plenty  of  work,  in 
Charleston,"  said  he. 

"  Do  they  ?  I  wish  I  was  there,  then.  But  it's 
no  use  wishing.  I  can't  tramp  that  distance." 

•'  I'm  short  of  hands,"  said  the  captain,  "  and  will 
give  you  a  passage,  if  you  will  take  the  place  of  one 
on  the  voyage." 

"  That  I  will  do  most  cheerfully,  and  thank  you 
for  the  privilege  into  the  bargain,"  replied  Peter. 
"  When  do  you  sail  ?" 

"  This  afternoon.  The  clearance  has  already 
been  made." 

"  So  much  the  better." 

"  Get  your  trunk,  then.  The  wind  is  fair,  and  I 
shall  be  under  way  in  a  couple  of  hours." 

"  Trunk !  Shelf,  you'd  better  say.  I'm  yet  to 
be  rich  enough  to  own  a  trunk." 

The  captain  laughed  and  said — 

"  Your  bundle,  then." 

"  Except  rags,  I've  nothing  but  what  you  see  on 
my  back,"  said  Peter. 

"  You  are  poorly  off,  sure  enough,"  remarked  the 
captain,  "  and  I  don't  wonder  that  you  bear  no 
goodwill  towards  your  old  master.  If  it  were  my 
case,  I  should  be  very  much  inclined  to  let  him  feel 
the  weight  of  a  pair  of  sledge  hammers  before  turn 
ing  my  back  on  the  city."  And  the  captain  held 
up  his  huge  fists. 

"  And  get  in  prison  for  your  trouble,"  said  Peter. 
"  No,  I've  had  more  to  do  with  the  old  rascal  for 


90  THE   WAY   TO   PROSPER. 


the  present  than  is  at  all  agreeable.  In  a  year  or 
two  I  Avill  return  and  settle  the  matter  with  him  on 
the  ground  of  equality  as  a  man.  The  day  of  reck 
oning  has  got  to  come." 

"You  are  right,  no  doubt,"  replied  the  captain. 
"  Get  all  fair  and  square — a  good  suit  of  clothes 
on  your  back,  and  money  in  your  pocket,  and  then 
haul  him  up  to  the  bull-ring." 

Two  hours  afterwards,  the  sails  of  the  vessel 
were  spread  to  the  breeze,  and  before  the  next 
morning  the  runaway  apprentice  was  out  to  sea,  and 
beyond  the  reach  of  pursuit. 


CHAPTER  XL 

ON  his  arrival  in  Charleston,  Peter  found  no 
lifficulty  in  getting  work.  In  a  Boston  newspaper 
^he  saw  himself  advertised  as  a  runaway,  and  a  re 
ward  of  twenty  dollars  offered  for  his  apprehension. 
He  was  described  as  a  coarse,  rowdyish  looking  boy, 
who  kept  low  company,  and  would,  probably,  be 
found  by  the  police  sleeping  at  night  in  one  of  the 
engine  houses.  All  persons  were  cautioned  not  to 
harbor  or  employ  him  under  pain  of  prosecution. 

The  reading  of  this  advertisement  mortified,  as 
well  as  incensed  the  young  man.  The  clothes  he 
had  on  were  also  particularly  described  ;  and  as  he 
had  no  ability  to  change  them,  he  dreaded  being 
recognized  in  the  office  where  he  worked,  hundreds 
of  miles  away  from  Boston  as  he  was.  If  any  one 


THE   WAT  TO   PROSPER.  91 

looked  at  him  earnestly  in  the  street ;  if  a  fellow 
workman  questioned  him  about  his  former  place  of 
residence — if  the  owner  of  the  printing  office  observed 
him  more  attentively  than  usual,  his  heart  would 
beat  quicker,  and  he  would  feel  certain  that  he  was 
either  suspected  or  recognized.  The  first  week 
after  getting  work,  he  earned  eight  dollars.  Four 
of  this  had  to  be  paid  for  boarding.  The  cost  of 
living  he  found  to  be  much  higher  at  the  South  than 
it  was  in  Boston.  The  remaining  four  dollars  would 
have  been  spent  for  a  pair  of  coarse  pantaloons, 
only  that  the  vices  of  smoking  and  chewing  had  to 
be  indulged,  and  the  purchase  of  tobacco  and  segars, 
besides  a  couple  of  glasses  of  liquor,  on  Saturday 
evening,  reduced  his  funds  to  three  dollars  and  a 
half — too  small  a  sum  for  his  purpose.  So  the 
purchase  of  the  pantaloons  had  to  be  put  off  for  an 
other  week. 

Money  in  Peter's  pocket  always  made  him  feel 
uneasy.  The  fact  that  he  possessed  three  dollars 
and  a  half,  and  would  receive  ten  dollars  on  the 
next  Saturday  night,  made  him  feel  in  a  certain 
sense,  rich ;  and  privileged,  therefore,  to  gratify 
any  little  want  he  might  feel.  The  consequence 
was,  that  by  the  time  the  week  ended,  his  three 
dollars  and  a  half  had  wasted,  how,  he  could  hardly 
tell,  until  only  two  remained.  This  diminution 
troubled  his  mind,  and  caused  him  to  form  a  resolu 
tion  against  the  indulgence  of  a  spending  propensity. 
A  pair  of  coarse  pantaloons  and  a  vest  were  bought 
on  Saturday  night ;  and  the  pleasure  he  felt  in 
putting  them  on,  strengthened  his  resolution  to  be 
careful  about  his  expenditures.  By  the  end  of  the 


92  THE  WAY   TO   PROSPER. 


next  week  he  was  able  to  supply  himself  with  a  new 
hat  and  a  pair  of  half  boots.  The  savings  of  three 
more  weeks  enabled  him  to  purchase  a  coat.  After 
this,  pride  in  his  personal  appearance  being  awak 
ened,  he  expended  his  earnings  in  handkerchiefs, 
shirts,  and  stockings,  of  which  he  was  nearly  desti 
tute.  Then  a  commoner  coat  for  every  day  wear, 
a  fine  pair  of  pantaloons  and  a  vest,  and  a  pair  of 
boots  were  obtained.  All  this  was  accomplished  in 
the  space  of  a  few  months.  The  change  produced 
in  the  young  man  in  consequence,  was  so  great, 
that  it  is  doubtful  if  his  old  master  would  have 
known  him  had  he  met  him  on  the  street. 

Yet,  for  all,  Peter  was  far  from  being  comforta 
ble.  He  was  but  a  runaway  apprentice  after  all,  and 
liable,  he  felt,  at  any  moment,  to  be  apprehended 
and  sent  back  to  his  master.  The  danger  of  some 
printer  from  Boston  getting  work  in  the  same  office 
and  recognizing  him,  was  constantly  before  his  eyes. 
He  felt  uneasy  whenever  a  stranger  entered  the 
place.  Regularly  every  Sunday  he  went  round  to 
the  different  hotels  and  examined  the  registers  of 
arrivals  to  see  if  any  one  from  Boston,  likely  to 
know  him,  was  in  the  city. 

One  Sunday,  about  six  months  after  his  entrance 
into  Charleston,  and  when  he  had  not  only  supplied 
himself  with  a  good  stock  of  clothing,  but  had  about 
thirty  dollars  in  his  trunk,  he  was  startled  to  find 
the  name  of  Ludlow  on  the  register  of  one  of  the 
hotels.  The  initials  were  those  of  his  old  master, 
and  the  residence  given  was  Boston.  Whether  this 
•was  his  master  or  not,  was  more  than  he  could  tell. 
But  he  did  not  feel  it  safe  to  stay  an  hour  longer  in 


THE   WAY   TO   PROSPER.  93 

the  city  than  necessity  compelled  him  to  remain. 
That  afternoon,  without  intimating  to  any  one  his 
intention,  he  started  for  Mobile ;  from  thence  he 
proceeded  to  New  Orleans,  and  up  the  river  to 
Natchez.  By  this  time  his  money  was  nearly  all 
gone.  At  Natchez  he  could  get  no  work.  There 
were  several  vacancies  in  New  Orleans,  he  was  told, 
as  the  sickly  season  was  about  coming  on,  and 
printers  were  leaving.  He  spoke  of  Cincinnati ; 
but  was  discouraged  in  regard  to  work  there,  as  a 
number  of  printers  from  the  lower  country  had 
already  gone  up. 

Having  barely  enough  money  to  take  him  back 
to  New  Orleans,  Peter  Close,  after  reflecting  on  the 
chances  of  his  getting  sick,  and  on  the  probability 
of  Mr.  Ludlow's  not  venturing  so  far  South  in  the 
summer  time,  concluded  to  run  his  chances  and  go 
down  the  river. 

In  New  Orleans  he  obtained  work  at  the  first 
newspaper  office  where  he  made  application ;  wages 
fifteen  dollars  a  week.  The  price  of  boarding  was 
five  dollars.  In  four  weeks  after  the  young  man 
entered  New  Orleans,  he  was  down  with  the  yellow 
fever.  The  keeper  of  the  boarding  house  where  he 
lodged,  had  him  sent  immediately  to  the  hospital, 
where  he  escaped  death  by  only  the  narrowest 
chance.  On  leaving  the  sick  ward,  he  found  him 
self  penniless,  friendless,  and  so  feeble  that  he 
could  scarcely  walk  alone.  As  to  working,  it  was 
entirely  out  of  the  question.  He  could  not  have 
stood  at  the  case  for  five  minutes,  nor  applied  suf 
ficient  strength  to  a  press  to  have  obtained  the  im 
pression  of  a  sheet.  The  deadly  fever  was  still 


94  THE  "WAY  TO   PROSPER. 

raging  around  him,  claiming  its  scores  of  victims 
daily.  If  he  were  to  suffer  a  relapse,  his  fate  would 
be  sealed.  The  only  thing  for  him  was  to  escape 
from  the  city  and  flee  for  his  life.  But  how  was 
he  to  get  away  ?  He  had  not  a  dollar,  and  was  a 
stranger  to  all  in  the  city.  On  going  to  his  board 
ing  house  for  his  trunk,  he  found  that  it  had  been 
opened,  and  his  best  clothes  removed,  under  the 
belief  that  he  would  die  at  the  hospital.  He  never 
recovered  them  ;  for  he  was  in  no  condition  to  con 
tend  for  his  rights.  In  the  hope  of  exciting  the 
sympathy  of  the  person  for  whom  he  had  worked, 
he  called  at  his  printing  oifice  to  ask  the  loan  of  a 
sufficient  sum  to  take  him  up  the  river  as  far  as 
Cincinnati;  but  the  man-  had  been  taken  down 
with  the  fever  the  day  after  he  sickened,  and  was 
dead. 

The  young  man  was  in  despair.  He  had  gone 
back  to  his  boarding  house,  but  his  reception,  if  it 
could  really  be  called  a  reception,  was  such  as  to 
make  it  plain  to  him  that  he  would  not  be  permitted 
to  remain  there.  He  was  not  assigned  a  room,  and 
when  at  night  he  asked  for  one,  he  was  told  that 
the  house  was  full,  and,  therefore,  he  could  not  be 
accommodated. 

"  Can't  you  give  me  a  bed  for  to-night  ?"  he  in 
quired,  in  a  half  imploring  voice.  Physical  exhaus 
tion  had  broken  down  his  spirits. 

With  some  reluctance  he  was  permitted  to  sleep 
in  one  of  the  attics  ;  but  he  was  told,  at  the  same 
time,  that  he  must  seek  other  lodgings  on  the  next 
day,  as  he  could  not  and  would  not  be  accommo 
dated. 


THE  WAT   TO   PROSPER.  95 


On  the  following  morning,  Peter  Close  made  his 
way  to  the  levee,  where  he  found  two  boats  up  for 
Cincinnati,  to  sail  on  that  day.  Remembering  that 
when  he  took  passage  up  the  river  before,  he  had 
not  been  called  on  to  pay  his  fare  until  the  second 
or  third  day,  it  occurred  to  his  mind  that  he  might 
get  away  from  the  city  by  going  on  board  of  one  of 
these  boats.  When  called  on  for  his  passage  money, 
he  could  explain  his  situation,  and  trust  to  the 
humanity  of  the  captain  for  the  rest.  He  could 
only  put  him  on  shore,  and  that  would  be  an  evil 
less  to  be  dreaded  than  remaining  in  the  city,  where 
death  lurked  in  the  very  atmosphere  he  breathed. 

Acting  on  this  resolution,  the  young  man  went 
on  board  one  of  the  boats  about  three  o'clock  in  the 
afternoon,  and  entered  his  name  for  a  berth  in  the 
cabin.  His  trunk,  which  was  nearly  empty,  gave 
him  credit  in  the  eyes  of  the  clerk,  as  a  responsible 
passenger.  At  five  o'clock  the  boat  got  under 
way,  and  he  saw  the  spires,  cupolas  and  domes  of 
the  Crescent  City,  gradually  receding  with  a  feeling 
of  sincere  pleasure.  But  anxiety  soon  succeeded 
to  this.  He  was  far  from  liking  the  looks  of  the 
captain  of  the  boat,  and  being  weak,  and  therefore 
unable  to  protect  himself,  if  difficulties  should  arise, 
he  began  to  have  fears  for  the  result  when  it  became 
known  that  he  had  regularly  entered  his  name  as  a 
cabin  passenger  for  Cincinnati,  without  having  a 
dollar  in  his  pocket. 

On  the  forenoon  of  the  second  day,  an  intimation 
was  given  that  passengers  were  expected  to  settle 
the  fare.  Nearly  all  on  the  boat,  except  such  as 
had  already  attended  to  this  part  of  the  business, 


96  THE   WAT   TO   PROSPER. 

presented  themselves  at  the  clerk's  office,  according 
to  invitation.  Close  felt  extremely  uncomfortable. 
He  debated  the  question  whether  it  would  not  be 
his  best  policy  to  anticipate  a  discovery  of  his  des 
titute  circumstances,  by  informing  the  captain  of 
his  true  position,  and  endeavoring  to  excite  some 
feelings  of  pity  in  his  bosom.  With  this  thought 
in  his  mind,  he  examined  the  face  of  that  personage 
attentively,  whenever  he  came  into  the  cabin,  or 
passed  him  while  he  was  on  the  guards.  But  the 
oftener  he  looked  into  his  hard  countenance,  the 
feebler  became  his  hope  of  moving  his  sympathies 
by  a  direct  appeal.  The  clerk  of  the  boat  was  a 
man  apparently  of  the  same  stamp  of  character. 

The  day  went  by  without  any  intimation  from  the 
officers  of  the  boat  that  he  was  expected  to  settle 
his  fare ;  but  several  times  he  observed  the  clerk 
looking  at  him,  and  he  understood  too  well  the  mean 
ing  of  that  look.  In  the  evening,  after  tea,  as  Close 
was  sitting  on  one  of  the  guards,  enjoying  the  cool 
airs  that  melted  even  his  forehead,  the  clerk  of  the 
boat  approached  him  and  said,  in  no  very  bland 
way— 

"  What's  the  number  of  your  berth  ?" 

The  number  was  twenty.  But  it  instantly  oc 
curred  to  Peter  that,  by  saying  twenty-five,  he 
might  gain  a  longer  time,  as,  no  doubt,  the  occupant 
of  number  twenty-five  had  paid  his  fare.  He  un 
derstood  perfectly  well,  why  the  clerk  had  asked 
the  question.  His  decision  was  made  almost  as 
quick  as  thought. 

"  Twenty-five,"  was  the  unhesitating  reply. 


THE  WAY  TO   PROSPER.  97 

"  Twenty-five  ?"  the  clerk  looked  at  him  half 
doubtingly. 

"Didn't  I  say  so?"  returned  Peter,  with  some 
impatience  in  his.  manner. 

"  Yes,  you  did,"  replied  the  clerk,  rather  rudely, 
and  passed  on. 

The  heart  of  the  young  man  throbbed  quickly 
and  strongly.  He  had  lied  to  gain  a  little  time, 
and  his  lie  was,  evidently,  but  half  believed.  When 
the  truth  became  known,  it  would  be  much  worse 
for  him  than  if  he  had  answered  correctly  and  met 
the  consequences.  He  understood  that  fully,  and 
the  thought  did  not  add  anything  to  the  comfort  of 
his  feelings. 

Peter  Close  was  nearly  the  last  passenger  who 
retired  that  night.  Number  twenty-five  went  to  bed 
early.  The  clerk,  whose  suspicions  were  aroused, 
observed  this,  and  Peter  saw  that  he  observed  it. 
He  passed  in  and  out  of  the  cabin  frequently,  and 
never  without  fixing  his  eyes  upon  the  suspected 
passenger.  At  length  the  young  man  became  so 
weak  and  overwearied  that  he  could  sit  up  no  longer ; 
so  laying  off  a  portion  of  his  clothes,  he  crept  into 
his  berth.  He  had  not  been  long  there  before  the 
clerk  came  through  again,  and  seeing  that  he  had 
at  length  retired,  went  up  to  him  and  said — 

"  I  thought  you  told  me  that  your  berth  was 
twenty-five." 

When  any  one  makes  the  attempt  to  lie  through 
a  difficulty,  his  mind  generally  becomes  confused. 
The  truth  is  a  very  simple  thing,  a  mere  question 
of  facts,  clearly  arranged  in  the  memory,  back  to 
which  the  thoughts  can  constantly  go  as  clearly 


THE   WAY   TO   PROSPER. 


defined  landmarks.  Bat  a  lie,  while  it  needs  sup 
porting,  has  no  fixed  relation  to  any  thing,  and 
more  than  ordinary  ingenuity  is  required  to  make 
the  new  lies,  which  have  to  be  told,  in  order  to  sus 
tain  the  first  one  that  is  uttered,  to  perfectly  agree 
with  it  as  to  seem  part  of  a  real  truth.  It  rarely 
happens  that  a  lie  is  well  sustained  by  its  associate 
lies.  The  want  of  a  family  likeness  is  generally  so 
apparent  as  even  to  force  itself  on  the  observafikm. 
Lies  told  to  hide  an  error,  to  avoid  or  escape  a 
difficulty,  always  make  matters  worse.  As  in  the 
present  case. 

"  So  it  is,"  replied  Peter  Close  to  the  question 
of  the  clerk. 

"  Why  are  you  not  in  it,  then  ?"  said  the  clerk. 

"  Because  another  man  took  it  in  mistake.  I  did 
not  like  to  turn  him  out,  as  he  looked  sick,  and  so 
waited  until  all  were  in  bed  to  get  the  berth  that 
woulcf*t5e  vacant." 

"  You  are  going  to  Cincinnati  ?" 

"lam." 

"  Be  kind  enough  to  hand  me  your  fare.  You 
have  neglected  to  settle  it." 

"  If  you  will  refer  to  ^our  book  you  will  find  that 
twenty-five  has  settled." 

"  I  am  aware  of  that.  But  twenty  has  not.  So 
just  pay  over  the  fare  and  save  yourself  trouble.  I 
know  the  man  in  twenty-five  very  well ;  and  re 
member  when  he  paid  his  fare.  He's  about  as  sick 
as  I  am." 

Peter  felt  that  the  trying  moment  had  come, 
and  that,  by  falsehood,  he  had  sealed  up  all  the 
avenues  to  sympathy  in  the  mind  of  the  captain  or 


THE  WAT  TO   PROSPER.  99 

clerk.  Some  moments  elapsed  before  he  replied. 
He  searched  in  vain  for  some  new  expedient  by 
-which  to  gain  farther  time. 

"  Come,"  said  the  clerk,  "  be  quick.  I  want  youi 
fare." 

"  I'll  settle  it  in  the  morning,"  said  Close. 

"  That  won't  do.     It  must  be  settled  to-night." 

"  You  see  I'm  in  bed.  I  can't  run  away  before 
morning." 

"  If  you  wish  to  save  yourself  trouble,  my  friend," 

id  the  clerk,  in  a  cool,  but  resolute  voice,  "  you 
will  settle  your  fare  immediately.  We  never  per 
mit  ourselves  to  be  trifled  with  on  board  of  this  boat 
by  tricks  such  as  you  are  endeavoring  to  pass  off." 

Escape  was  now  impossible.  To  tell  the  truth 
and  make  an  appeal  for  sympathy,  was  now  the 
only  course  left.  In  a  low  tone,  Peter  Close  made 
a  full  confession  to  the  clerk  of  his  situation,  and 
why  he  had  come  on  board  of  the  boat. 

"It  was  death  to  remain,"  he  closed  by  saying, 
"  and  this  was  my  only  chance  of  escape." 

"  Then  you  ought  to  have  said  so  when  you  came 
on  board  of  the  boat,"  replied  the  clerk.  "But  I 
do  not  credit  your  statement.  You  have  lied  in 
nearly  everything  else  that  you  have  said  to-night, 
and  most  likely  lie  in  this." 

"Be  assured,"  said  the  young  man,  humbly,  "I 
tell  the  truth." 

"And  be  assured,"  returned  the  clerk,  contempt 
uously,  "that  I  do  not  credit  a  word  you  say. 
You've  attempted  a  swindle,  and  that  never  goes 
down  on  these  waters.  If  you  have  the  money,  just 
hand  it  over ;  if  not,  the  quicker  you  turn  and  get 


100  THE   WAY  TO   PROSPER. 

on  your  riggin'  the  better.  I  will  be  back  in  two  or 
three  minutes." 

There  was  no  compromise  in  the  man's  voice. 
For  some  moments  after  he  retired,  Peter  lay  half 
paralyzed  with  confusion  ^and  alarm.  Then  he 
stepped  down  from  the  berth  and  putting  on  his 
coat  went  out  to  seek  the  captain,  in  the  hope  of 
moving  him  by  a  strong  appeal. 

"Ah!  here's  the  man  himself,"  said  the  clerk, 
as  Peter  stepped  from  the  cabin.  He  was  about 
entering  with  the  captain. 

"  Well,  my  fine  fellow !  have  you  brought  the 
money  to  pay  for  your  passage,"  said  the  latter,  in 
a  half  contemptuous,  half  threatening  voice. 

"  I  have  no  money,"  replied  Peter.  His  manner 
was  subdued  and  imploring.  "And  have  already 
explained  to  your  clerk  my  situation." 

"  You've  told  him  a  dozen  or  two  abominable 
falsehoods,  as  far  as  I  can  make  it  out,  and  this  I 
suppose  is  another,"  said  the  captain,  roughly. 
"  But  it  all  wont  do.  We  have  a  summary  way 
of  dealing  with  gentlemen  of  your  kidney  who 
attempt  a  swindle  of  this  kind,  which  never  needs 
repeating.  A  few  hours  acquaintance  with  cotton 
wood,  bears,  snakes,  and  aligators,  if  survived,  gene 
rally  cures  the  passion  for  playing  off  tricks  on 
steamboat  captains.  Are  you  prepared  to  settle 
your  passage  ?" 

"  Gentlemen !  I  am  without  a  dollar.  I  have 
been  sick  with  the  fever;  and  am  now  weak  as 
a  child.  It  was  my  only  hope  of  escape  from 
death." 

"  Pah !"     The  captain  tossed  his  head  contempt- 


j 

'  f 
THE   WAY  TO   PROSPER.  101 

uously.  "  The  old  beggar  woman's  story  of  six 
starving  children  and  a  sick  husband  at  home. 
William,  tell  the  pilot  to  bring-her-to  at  that  point 
just  above;  and  order  the  hands  to  get  the  boats 
ready." 

A  full  moon,  shining  down  from  a  cloudless  sky, 
gave  distinctness  to  every  object  on  the  river's  bank. 
The  point  of  land  mentioned  by  the  captain,  was  a 
clay  bluff,  a  hundred  feet  high,  with  a  shore  only  a 
few  feet  wide  at  its  base.  As  the  Captain  gave  this 
direction  to  the  clerk,  Peter  Close  threw  his  eyes 
hurriedly  towards  the  land,  and  shuddered. 

"You  will  not  do  that,  surely?"  said  he  to  the 
Captain.  "  Remember,  that  I  am  a  sick  man,  and 
if  you  put  me  on  shore  at  midnight,  where  there  is 
no  habitation,  it  will  be  the  death  of  me." 

As  Peter  said  this  he  made  a  movement  to  re- 
enter  the  cabin,  with  the  intention  of  appealing  to 
the  passengers  for  protection.  But  the  Captain 
stepped  quickly  between  him  and  the  door. 

"  Let  me  go  in,"  said  Peter. 

"No,  sir,"  returned  the  Captain,  resolutely. 

"  I  wish  to  get  something  from  my  berth." 

"  We'll  keep  what  you've  left  there  to  pay  your 
passage  and  the  trouble  of  landing  you." 

"I'll  cry  murder,"  said  Peter. 

The  Captain  instantly  collared  him  with  a  strong 
grip. 

"  One  sound  from  your  lips,"  said  he,  with  an 
oath,  "  and  I'll  pitch  you  into  the  river  !  There  ! 
Down  with  you  to  the  lower  deck."  And  he  pushed 
the  unhappy  young  man  towards  the  stair-way,  who, 
powerless  in  his  grasp,  obeyed  passively. 
9 


102  THE  WAY  TO   PROSPER. 

"  Have  his  trunk  brought  down,  and  anything 
that  may  be  in  his  berth,"  said  the  Captain  to  the 
clerk,  who  joined  them  as  they  reached  the  lower 
deck. 

Resistance  for  one  in  his  circumstances,  Peter 
felt  to  be  hopeless.  Another  fruitless  appeal  was 
made  to  the  Captain  and  clerk,  and  then  he  submit 
ted,  passively,  and  in  silence.  Opposite  the  point 
of  land  referred  to,  the  steamboat  was  brought-to. 
'A  small  boat  was  dropped  into  the  water,  manned 
by  two  of  the  hands.  Into  this  the  passenger's 
trunk  was  thrown,  and  he  directed  to  follow.  Weak, 
faint  and  trembling,  the  young  man  obeyed.  A  few 
vigorous  pulls,  and  the  boat  struck  upon  the  shore. 
His  trunk  was  handed  out,  but  he  did  not  rise  from 
his  seat.  The  fact  was,  his  limbg  refused  to  bear 
his  weight. 

"  Come!"  said  one  of  the  men,  roughly. 

But  Peter  sat  motionless. 

"  Here,  Bill !  catch  hold  of  that  arm,  we'll  soon 
discharge  this  cargo,"  he  added,  seizing  hold  of  the 
passive  young  man.  In  a  moment  more,  Peter 
Close  was  pitched  from  the  boat.  Staggering 
forward,  he  fell  upon  his  trunk. 

The  boat  pushed  instantly  from  the  shore.  In 
less  than  a  minute  from  this  time  the  wheels  of  the 
steamer  were  again  in  motion,  and  the  shrill  sound 
of  the  steam,  escaping  with  each  revolution,  echo 
ing  sharply  from  the  neighboring  bluffs.  In  less 
than  five  minutes,  she  swept  around  a  jutting  point 
and  disappeared  from  the  eyes  of  the  desolate  young 
man,  who  had  risen  up  and  now  sat  crouching  upon 
his  trunk. 


THE  WAY  TO   PROSPER.  105 

A  little  while  longer,  and  all  was  still  as  death, 
Bave  the  low  murmur  of  the  turbid  river  as  it  swept 
on  its  never  ceasing  way  to  the  ocean.  The  air* 
had  become  chilly  with  falling  dews,  and  the  frame 
of  Peter  shivered  as  the  cold  struck  through  his  thin 
garments.  At  the  same  time,  a  dull  pain,  with 
heat,  was  perceptible  in  his  forehead.  This  pain 
increased,  and  flushes  of  heat  began  to  pass  over 
the  surface  of  his  body.  A  faintness  and  dizziness 
succeeded  to  this.  Unable  to  retain  his  upright 
position  on  the  trunk,  Peter  at  length  sunk  down 
upon  the  ground,  a  few  feet  from  the  river's  brink. 

Delirium  soon  after  succeeded.  When  next  con 
scious  of  surrounding  objects,  he  was  in  the  -small 
log  cabin  of  a  wood  cutter,  who  had  found  him  on 
the  shore,  and  lying  upon  the  only  bed  the  comfort 
less  tenement  contained.  Three  days  had  passed 
since  the  closing  of  his  senses.  To  a  physician  be 
longing  to  a  large  plantation  near  at  hand,  he  was 
indebted  for  his  life.  Without  prompt  medical  at 
tendance,  it  would  not  have  been  worth  a  feather. 
As  it  was,  the  most  judicious  and  constant  attention 
was  required,  and  his  recovery  was  so  slow,  that 
nearly  three  weeks  elapsed  before  he  was  able  to 
walk  about.  In  the  meantime,  he  had  been  re 
moved  to  the  house  of  the  overseer  on  the  planta 
tion  to  which  the  physician  belonged,  where  he  was 
attended  by  an  old  black  woman  who  was  assigned 
the  task  of  nursing  him. 

On  being  questioned  as  to  the  reason  why  he  had 

been  left  on  the  shore,  Peter  deemed  it  best  to  tell 

nothing   but  the  truth.      But,  even  his  truth  was 

only  half  credited.     It  could  not  be  believed  that, 

10 


106  THE   WAY   TO    PROSPER. 

for  the  cause  assigned,  a  sick  man  would  be  left 
upon  the  shore  at  midnight.  He  saw  that  doubts 
were  felt,  and  that  injurious  suspicions  as  to  his 
real  character  were  entertained.  As  he  grew 
stronger,  all  around  looked  upon  him  more  coldly. 
The  owner  of  the  plantation  had  shown  no  interest 
in  him  whatever ;  and  the  overseer,  to  whose  house 
he  had  been  removed  by  request  of  the  physician, 
evidently  felt  his  presence  as  unwelcome.  So  ap 
parent  was  this  to  the  young  man,  that  as  soon  as 
he  was  able  to  walk  about,  and  when  he  felt  a  por 
tion  of  his  strength  returning,  he  went  to  the  wood 
cutter  who  had  found  him  on  the  shore,  and  asked 
his  advice  as  to  what  he  should  do,  or  how  he  was 
to  get  away. 

"  There's  a  man,  below  here,  with  a  keel  boat," 
replied  the  wood  cutter,  "who  has  just  buried  one 
of  his  hands  that  died  of  the  fever.  He's  only  a 
boy  left,  and  can't  get  along  with  that  force.  No 
doubt  he'll  give  you  a  passage,  if  you  help  him 
to  work  his  way  up  to  Natchez." 

"Am  I  strong  enough  ?"  asked  Peter. 

"You  don't  look  as  if  you  had  much  muscles 
left,"  replied  the  man.  "But  I  guess  you  can  do 
something." 

Peter  went  down  to  see  the  man  who  had  the 
boat.  Neither  party  was  much  prepossessed  in 
favor  of  the  other;  however,  an  agreement  was 
entered  into.  Peter  was  to  have  his  passage  and 
meals,  and  five  dollars  on  his  arival  at  Natchez. 


THE  WAY   TO   PROSPER.  107 


CHAPTER  XII. 

As  to  the  particular  nature  of  keel -boat  service, 
Peter  Close  was  altogether  ignorant.  When  he  in 
formed  the  overseer,  in  whose  house  he  had  been 
staying,  that  he  had  engaged  to  work  his  passage 
on  board  a  keel  boat  to  Natchez,  that  personage 
stared.  But  he  made  no  objection.  He  wished  to 
get  rid  of  the  young  man,  and,  in  his  heart,  really 
cared  but  little  how  the  thing  was  done. 

On  the  next  morning,  one  of  the  negroes  on  the 
plantation  carried  Peter's  trunk  to  the  river.  On 
parting  with  the  young  man,  the  negro  said  in  a 
serious  voice — 

"Never  stand  dat,  no  how,  massa." 

It  was  a  little  after  sun  rise,  and  the  owner  of 
the  boat  was  all  ready  to  renew  his  upward  voyage. 
Although  it  was  August,  a  cold  fog  was  winding 
along  the  course  of  the  river,  leaving  its  large 
beads  of  moisture  upon  everything  in  its  way. 
Peter  shivered  as  he  descended  into  this  humid 
stratum  of  air. 

"I  expected  you  half  an  hour  ago,"  said  the 
owner  of  the  boat,  a  little  impatiently,  as  the  young 
man  handed  his  almost  empty  trunk  on  board. 
"  There,  you  and  Jim  take  the  line,  and  let's  be 
moving  brisk  while  we've  got  the  cool  of  the 
morning." 

Jim,  the  boy,  who  was  about  twelve  years  old, 
9* 


108  THE   WAY  TO   PROSPER. 

and  who  looked  as  if  he'd  never  had  any  flesh  on 
his  body,  was  already  standing  some  twenty  yards 
in  front,  holding  a  line  attached  to  the  boat.  The 
boy  stretched  the  rope  taught  as  this  was  said,  and 
the  new  hand,  as  he  obeyed  the  direction  given, 
had  his  first  correct  notion  of  keel-boat  service. 
But,  it  was  too  late  to  retreat  now.  He  "did  not 
wish  to  go  back  to  his  old  quarters,  where  his  ap 
pearance  would  have  been  unwelcome,  and  he  was 
anxious  to  reach,  at  no  matter  what  labor  and 
sacrifice  possible  to  be  endured,  one  of  the  cities 
above. 

The  owner  of  the  little  vessel  took  his  station  at 
the  helm,  and  Peter  and  the  boy,  with  the  rope 
over  their  shoulders,  bent  forward  and  commenced 
their  slow  and  laborious  march  along  the  winding 
shore,  dragging  after  them  a  boat,  loaded  with 
sugar  and  groceries,  against  a  current  running  at 
the  rate  of  four  miles  an  hour.  In  a  few  minutes, 
the  perspiration  was  starting  from  every  pore  of 
the  young  man's  body,  weakened  by  long  and  se 
vere  illness.  Before  they  had  progressed  a  mile, 
he  was  so  exhausted  that  he  kept  his  feet  only  by 
support  of  the  rope,  against  which  he  bent  his 
body.  A  little  farther,  and  he  sunk  to  the  ground, 
unable  to  move  another  step.  The  owner  of  the 
boat,  muttering  and  swearing  in  an  undertone, 
jumped  upon  the  shore,  and  ordering  Peter  'to 
take  his  place  at  the  rudder,  seized  the  rope,  and 
prepared  to  give  the  little  vessel  a  more  vigorous 
onward  movement.  The  young  man  crept  on  board 
as  best  he  could.  Too  much  exhausted  to  stand, 
he  was  obliged  to  sit  upon  a  box  and  lean  almost 


THE  WAY  TO   PROSPER.  109 

the  entire  weight  of  his  body  on  the  tiller,  as  he 
gave  it  the  requisite  motions  to  guide  the  boat. 

Another  mile  was  accomplished,  and  then  the 
party  halted  for  breakfast,  which  consisted  of  coffee, 
pilot  bread  and  salt  pork,  to  which  was  added  a 
drain  of  bad  whiskey.  Peter  found  himself  with  a 
better  appetite  than  he  had  expected,  and  his  food 
would  have  done  him  good,  had  he  not  joined  his 
companions  in  the  bad  whiskey.  After  the  meal 
was  concluded,  Peter  once  more  took  his  place  at 
the  tiller,  and  the  wearisome  journey  was  again 
commenced.  Soon,  however,  there  was  a  change 
in  the  channel,  and  another  system  of  navigation 
had  to  be  adopted.  The  boat  had  to  be  poled  up 
the  stream  for  the  distance  of  half  a  mile,  and  then 
along  the  shore  for  a  mile  farther.  Peter  was 
ordered  to  take  a  long  pole,  the  weight  of  which,  in 
his  weak  state,  was  more  than  he  could  carry  with 
out  fatigue,  to  assist  in  this  work.  The  boy  was 
too  small  to  be  of  any  service  here,,  so  he  was 
placed  at  the  helm.  The  water  was  deep,  and  it 
required  nearly  the  whole  length  of  the  long  pole 
to  reach  the  bottom.  Taking  his  place  at  the  bow, 
the  owner  of  the  boat,  after  telling  Peter  to  follow 
him,  let  his  pole  fall  into  the  water ;  the  end  pro 
jected  only  two  or  three  feet  above  the  deck.  Bend 
ing  forwards  and  downwards  until  his  shoulders 
rested  upon  the  end  of  the  pole,  he  commenced 
walking  slowly  towards  the  stern,  giving,  as  he  did 
so,  the  boat  a  motion  up  the  stream.  Peter  under 
stood  all  this  clearly  enough,  and  following  the 
example  thus  set,  let  his  pole  drop  to  the  bottom, 
and  applied  his  shoulders  to  the  projecting  end  in  a 


110  THE   WAY  TO   PROSPER. 

similar  manner.  By  this  time  the  sun  was  pouring 
down  its  hot  and  sultry  rays  upon  the  heads  of  the 
toiling  voyagers,  and  the  sick  young  man  felt  him 
self  Avilting  beneath  its  scorching  heat  as  a  leaf 
plucked  from  its  stem.  Two  or  three  times  did  he 
walk  thus  from  the  bow  to  the  stern  of  the  boat, 
applying,  however,  but  little  strength,  for  he  had 
scarcely  any  to  give,  and  aiding,  only  in  appearance, 
the  progressive  motion.  His  total  inefficiency  was 
perceived  by  the  owner  of  the  boat,  who  was  about 
swearing  at  him  for  a  lazy,  shirking  vagabond,  when 
the  pole  of  Peter  having  rested  on  some  yielding 
inequality  at  the  bottom;  gave  way  as  he  leaned 
upon  it,  and  he  was  projected  head  foremost  into 
the  river.  There  was  a  strong  current  running  at 
the  place  where  this  accident  occurred,  and  he  was, 
therefore,  swept  rapidly  down  the  stream.  Too 
weak,  on  coming  to  the  surface  to  struggle  even  for 
his  life,  the  young  man,  after  gasping  for  breath, 
went  under  again.  The  owner  of  the  boat  as  soon 
as  he  had  time  for  reflection,  sprung  into  the  water 
and  swam,  wfth  a  few  vigorous  strokes  to  the  shore. 
Then  starting  down  the  river  at  full  speed,  he 
reached  a  point  at  some  distance  below  the  place 
where  he  had  seen  the  body  of  the  young  man  rise 
last  to  the  surface,  and  waited  for  its  reappearance. 
In  a  moment  or  two  it  rose  within  a  few  feet  of  the 
spot  on  which  he  stood.  Dashing  into  the  water, 
he  grasped  a  part  of  the  clothing,  and  dragged  the 
nearly  insensible  form  to  the  shore.  •  His  next  care 
was  for  his  boat,  which,  with  no  one  on  board  but 
the  lad,  was  floating  down  the  stream  at  the  will  of 
the  current.  Swimming  out  to  this,  he  directed  its 


THE   WAY   TO   PROSPER. 


course  to  the  shore,  and  after  fastening  it  to  the 
land,  turned  his  attention  to  his  half  dead  companion, 
muttering  as  he  did  so — 

"A  curse  on  the  fellow!  I'm  always  playing 
the  fool  in  one  way  or  another." 

Some  negroes  who  had  seen  from  a  neighboring 
field  the  disaster,  gave  the  alarm  ;  and  with  a  white 
man  came  running  down  to  the  river.  They  arrived 
in  time  to  save  the  boatman  any  further  trouble  in 
regard  to  the  half-drowned  man,  who  was  taken  up 
by  the  negroes,  and  removed  to  a  house  which  stood 
at  no  great  distance  from  the  water.  Just  then,  an 
upward  bound  steamboat  stopped  near  where  the 
keel-boat  lay,  for  the  purpose  of  taking  in  wood. 
With  the  captain  of  this  boat,  the  owner  of  the  keel 
boat  made  an  agreement  to  be  towed  a  hundred 
miles  up  the  river  for  a  certain  price ;  and  in  less 
than  ten  minutes  after  the  body  of  Peter  was  borne 
away  by  the  negroes,  he  was  gliding  away  at  the 
rate  of  eight  or  ten  miles  an  hour.  He  had  forgot 
ten  to  leave  the  young  man's  trunk  on  the  shore. 

At  the  time  Peter  Close  was  precipitated  into  the 
river,  every  pore  of  his  body  was  open,  and  every 
muscle  exhausted  and  relaxed.  When  his  nearly 
extinguished  life  flowed  back  again  to  the  cold  ex 
tremities,  he  felt  stiff,  and  was  sensible  of  a  dull 
pain  in  his  joints  and  limbs.  I1  ever  soon  after  ap 
peared  ;  and  when,  owing  to  symptoms  of  serious 
illness,  a  doctor  was  called,  he  pronounced  the  at 
tack  to  be  inflammatory  rheumatism. 

The  particulars  of  what  the  unhappy  young  man 
suffered  during  the  next  three  months,  we  will  not 
linger  to  detail.  His  home  was  a  negro  quarter, 


112  THE  WAY  TO   PROSPER. 

and  his  attendant  a  woman  called  in  from  the  field 
by  the  half  reluctant  owner  of  the  plantation.  The 
pain  he  suffered,  night  and  day,  for  a  greater  part 
of  the  time,  was  terrible.  In  November,  having 
but  partially  recovered  from  the  effect  of  his  rheu 
matism,  and  with  scarcely  sufficient  clothing  to  hide 
his  nakedness,  Peter  obtained  a  deck  passage  on 
board  of  a  steamboat  to  New  Orleans ;  and,  spirit 
less  and  disheartened,  took  his  way  to  that  city,  in 
order  to  seek  for  work  at  his  trade. 

On  arriving,  he  applied  at  several  offices  for  em 
ployment,  but  his  miserable  appearance  at  once  sug 
gesting  the  idea  of  degraded  intemperance,  caused 
his  applications  to  be  refused.  At  length,  in  despair, 
he  offered  to  work  for  his  board  and  clothes.  The 
manner  of  this  offer  touched  the  feelings  of  the 
individual  to  whom  it  was  made,  and  he  agreed  to 
take  him  on  trial,  and  pay  him  the  usual  wages, 
according  to  the  amount  of  work  he  might  do. 

On  attempting  to  stand  at  the  case,  Peter  found 
that,  in  a  little  while,  his  limbs  ached  so  dreadfully, 
that  it  was  impossible  to  endure  it.  On  applying 
for  a  high  stool,  and  stating  the  reason,  the  master 
printer  looked  dissatisfied ;  but,  after  a  little  reflec 
tion,  consented  to  let  him  have  what  he  wanted. 
But  even  sitting  for  hours,  with  the  composing-stick 
in  his  hand,  he  found  excessively  fatiguing,  and  his 
arm  ached  so  by  night  that  it  seemed  as  if  he  could 
not  endure  it  a  moment  longer.  On  the  next  day, 
he  suffered  even  more,  and  on  the  third  day  he  had 
to  quit  work  some  time  during  the  middle  of  the 
afternoon  in  consequence  of  pain  and  exhaustion. 
On  the  following  morning,  however,  he  was  early  at 


THE   WAY  TO   PROSPER.  113 

his  work  again,  and  kept  at  it  through  the  day. 
By  the  end  of  the  week,  his  wages  amounted  to 
seven  dollars,  four  of  which  it  cost  for  his  boarding. 

As  he  had  shown  nothing  like  intemperance 
during  this  time,  and  came  steadily  to  his  work,  the 
printer  began  to  have  more  confidence  in  him. 
This  was  manifest,  and  Peter  felt  more  comfortable. 
But  he  could  not  get  on  any  faster  in  the  second 
than  he  did  during  the  first  week.  The  pain  with 
which  he  worked  was  incessant,  and  often  became 
intolerable.  On  the  third  Sunday  after  his  return 
to  New  Orleans,  he  got  drenched  with  rain,  while 
on  a  little  pleasure  party  with  two  or  three  acquaint 
ances  he  had  made  at  his  boarding-house.  This 
gave  the  disease  that  still  lingered  in  his  system 
an  acute  form,  and  he  was  in  bed  nearly  the  whole 
of  the  following  week,  and  under  the  hands  of  the 
doctor. 

Thus  passed  his  first  three  weeks  after  returning 
to  New  Orleans.  They  present  a  fair  epitome  of  the 
whole  ensuing  winter.  Spring  found  Peter  Close 
but  little  better  off  than  he  was  five  months  before  ; 
and  when  the  day  arrived  that  completed  his  mino 
rity,  he  was  lying  upon  his  back,  suffering  from  acute 
pain — his  earnings  exhausted,  his  clothes  poor  and 
scanty,  and  his  place  at  the  printing  office,  to  which 
he  had  not  been  able  to  go  for  three  weeks,  filled 
by  another. 

It  was  a  sad,  instead  of  a  bright  and  hopeful  day, 
to  the  suffering  young  man.  How  often  had  he 
looked  forward  to  the  time  when  he  should  attain 
his  twenty-first  year,  his  heart  bounding  with  plea- 
Bant  anticipations  !  That  time  had  come,  but  by 


114  THE  WAY  TO   PROSPER. 

his'  own  folly  he  had  destroyed  the  long  expected 
happiness.  There  was  scarcely  a  green  spot  in  the 
year  he  had  just  come  through — a  year  of  which  he 
had  robbed  his  master,  without  gaining  any  advan 
tage  to  himself;  and  there  was  little  in  the  future 
towards  which  he  could  look  with  hope.  The  doc 
tor  had  told  him  that  it  was  doubtful  if  he  would 
ever  fully  recover  his  health, — that  it  was  certain 
he  would  never  be  a  very  strong  man,  and  that  only 
by  great  care  of  himself  would  he  be  able  to  keep 
free  from  the  acute  attacks  from  which  he  had  suf 
fered  during  the  winter. 

Thus  it  was  with  Peter  Close  on  the  day  he  at 
tained  his  majority.  How  different  with  the  up 
right,  conscientious,  self-denying  Victor  Stevens. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

CONTRARY  to  the  expectation  of  Victor  Stevens, 
on  becoming  free,  Mr.  Preston  presented  him  with 
an  order  for  an  entire  suit  of  clothes. 

"But  I  have  already  received  my  freedom  suit," 
said  Victor,  handing  back  the  order.  "  I  am  not 
entitled  to  this." 

"  Oh,  yes,  you  are.  Good  conduct  and  industry 
have  earned  the  right.  And  now,  it  is  but  justice 
for  me  to  say  that  I  have  never  had  a  boy  in  my 
office,  except  your  brother,  who  gave  me  such  en 
tire  satisfaction.  That  you  will  prosper  in  the 
future  I  have  not  the  smallest  doubt ;  for,  in  your 


THE  WAT  TO   PROSPER.  115 

character  are  all  the  elements  of  prosperity.  Con 
tinue  in  my  office,  as  usual,  and  your  wages  shall 
be  equal  to  that  of  the  best  journeyman  I  employ. 
While  I  have  work,  never  fear  that  you  will  be 
idle." 

That  was  a  proud  and  happy  day  in  the  life  of 
Victor  Stevens.  For  all  his  self-denial,  forbear 
ance  under  oppression  and  injury,  and  long  suf 
fering  amid  many  privations,  he  was  fully  rewarded. 
He  looked  back,  not  with  regret,  but  with  pleasure. 
Faithful  to  his  early  honest  and  honorable  purposes, 
he  was  now  reaping  his  first  ripe  harvest  field,  in 
which  good  seed  had  sprung  up,  and  under  good 
culture,  reached  the  season  of  full  ear. 

In  silence,  yet  with  a  heart  trembling  with  plea 
sant-  ^motions,  Victor  heard  the  words  of  approval 
from  the  lips  of  Mr.  Preston.  He  was  about  turn 
ing  away,  when  he  paused  and  said,  half  hesitatingly 
as  he  spoke, — 

"I  know  the  office  is  full  now,  Mr.  Preston,  but 
if  you  could  make  room  for  my  brother  Thomas." 

"Not  another  printer  in  the  family!"  said  Mr. 
Preston,  in  surprise,  smiling  as  he  made  the  re 
mark. 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  young  man.  "  It  is  a  very 
good  trade,  and  we  all  think  Thomas  had  better 
learn  it." 

"  But,  what  does  he  think  ?" 

"Just  as  we  do." 

"You  all  seem  to  have  the  happy  faculty  of 
thinking  alike,"  said  Mr.  Preston,  smiling  again. 

"It  is  a  pleasant  thing,  this  family  concord — 
this  mutual  concern  for  each  other's  good.  I  only 
10 


116  THE   WAY  TO   PROSPER. 

•wish  we  had  more  of  it.  And  so  you  would  like  to 
get  your  brother  into  my  office  ?  How  does  Hartley 
feel  about  it?" 

"Oh,  he  would  like  it  very  much." 

"  Well,  Victor,  I'll  think  about  it.  As  you  said, 
the  office  is  full.  I  didn't  intend  taking  another 
boy  just  now.  But,  you  and  Hartley  have  proved 
so  faithful  as  apprentices,  that  the  temptation  of 
another  brother  is  certainly  strong.  Let  me  turn 
over  the  matter  in  my  thoughts  for  a  day  or  two, 
and  I  will  then  give  you  an  answer." 

The  answer,  much  to  the  satisfaction  of  the  two 
older  brothers,  was  favorable,  and  Thomas  Stevens, 
then  fifteen  years  of  age,  was  taken  into  the  office. 

About  this  time  the  father  of  Peter  and  Wm. 
Close  died.  Six  months  after  Peter  ran  away  from 
his  master,  William  escaped  from  the  House  of  Re 
fuge  ;  and,  up  to  the  day  of  his  death,  not  a  word 
of  intelligence  respecting  either  of  them  found  its 
way  to  Mr.  Close.  Their  conduct  planted  his  pil 
low  with  thorns,  and  made  wretched  the  last  days 
of  his  troublesome  life.  Frank,  his  youngest  son, 
was  thirteen  when  this  sad  event  occurred.  The  two 
boys  who  had  gone  to  Boston,  turned  out  so  badly, 
that  Mr.  Close  had  determined  to  keep  Frank  at 
home  and  raise  him  on  the  farm.  But  his  death 
left  the  boy  without  a  real  friend.  A  brother  of  Mr. 
Close,  who  administered  on  the  estate,  and  assumed 
the  guardianship  of  Frank,  sold  the  little  farm  and 
cottage  and  paid  off  the  debts.  After  this  was 
done,  he  said  that  nothing  remained — the  debts 
having  consumed  the  entire  proceeds  of  the  sale. 
No  one,  however,  believed  this.  But,  as  Mr. 


THE  WAY   TO   PROSPER. 


Edward  Close  was  pretty  well  off  in  the  world,  no 
body  cared  to  interfere  in  the  matter.  Six  months 
after  his  father's  death,  Frank  was  bound  an  ap 
prentice  in  the  city  of  Boston,  to  learn  the  trade  of 
a  hatter.  Thus  his  uncle  got  rid  of  him.  Without 
a  friend  to  look  after  or  to  counsel  him,  the  poor 
boy  was  subjected  to  every  species  of  hardship. 
He  had  the  example  of  running  away,  set  by  his 
oldest  brother,  before  him,  and,  at  the  age  of 
eighteen,  following  that  example,  left  the  service 
of  his  master.  Sixpence  and  an  old  hat  were  offered 
as  a  reward  for  his  apprehension  ! 

A  year  before  Hartley  Stevens  was  free,  he  dis 
covered,  by  some  accident,  that  there  was  a  flaw 
in  the  indenture  by  which  he  was  bound  to  serve 
Mr.  Preston  until  he  was  twenty-one  years  of  age. 
He  mentioned  it,  incidentally,  to  one  of  the  journey 
men  in  the  office,  who  advised  him  by  all  means  to 
accept  the  advantage  which  the  discovery  offered. 

"  And  leave  my  place  ?"  inquired  Hartley,  with 
a  flushing  cheek. 

"Certainly.  Preston  has  no  legal  claim  on  you. 
A  year  is  a  good  while.  You  can  lay  up  a  hundred 
or  two  dollars  in  that  time,  if  you're  prudent." 

"  Did  you  imagine  that  I  would  do  so  dishonor 
able  a  thing?"  said  Hartley,  indignantly. 

"Oh,  just  as  you  please,"  returned  the  man, 
with  a  sneering  air.  "If  you're  fool  enough  to  stay 
when  the  law  will  let  you  go  clear,  stay.  It's  no 
loss  to  me." 

"Nothing  is  ever  really  gained  by  a  dishonest 
action,"  said  Hartley,  firmly.  "I  shall,  therefore, 
Beek  for  no  good  in  that  course  of  life.  As  for  my 
11 


118  THE  WAY  TO   PROSPER. 

indentures,  I  have  never  felt  bound  by  them — I 
never  think  of  them.  I  gave  my  word  to  remain 
with  Mr.  Preston  until  I  was  twenty-one  years  of 
age,  and,  if  there  had  been  no  binding  in  the  case, 
it  would  have  been  all  the  same  to  me.  I  wouldn't 
give  much  for  either  man  or  boy,  who  only  acted 
right  because  legally  bound  to  do  so." 

The  journeyman  made  a  profane  angry  reply  to 
this,  when  Hartley  turned  from  him  with  a  proud 
consciousness  of  being  able  to  act  justly  towards 
others  from  a  principle  of  rectitude. 

It  so  happened,  that  a  part  of  this  conversation 
was  overheard  by  the  foreman  of  the  office,  who 
felt  it  his  duty  to  inform  Mr.  Preston  of  the  occur 
rence,  particularly  as  to  the  bad  advice  offered  by 
the  journeyman.  Mr.  Preston  felt  justly  indignant 
at  the  latter;  and  immediately  sending  .for,  him, 
paid  him  the  wages  that  were  due,  and  requested 
him  to  leave  the  establishment  forthwith. 

On  the  next  day,  when  Hartley  came  into  his 
counting-room,  to  ask  some  question  about  work, 
Mr.  Preston  said — 

"I  understand  that  you  have  discovered  a  flaw 
in  your  indentures." 

"I  merely  mentioned  it,"  replied  Hartley,  feel 
ing  hurt  at  the  intimation,  and  showing  that  such 
was  the  case ;  "  but  I  have  not  had  the  most  remote 
intention  of  taking  advantage  of  the  fact." 

"  I  have,  myself,  been  aware  for  some  time  of 
the  existence  of  this  flaw,"  said  Mr.  Preston.- 
"You  were  not  legally  bound,  and,  I  have,  there 
fore,  no  right  to  hold  you.  Perhaps  I  have  done 
Wrong  in  letting  you  remain  under  the  impression 


THE  WAY  TO   PROSPER.  119 

that  you  were  under  a  legal  obligation  to  give  me 
your  services  until  you  were  twenty-one  years  of 
age." 

"  I  am  sorry,"  was  the  reply  of  Hartley  to  this, 
evincing  a  good  deal  of  feeling  as  he  spoke,  "  that 
you  think  so  poorly  of  me,  as  to  suppose  that  I 
would  do  a  thing  clearly  wrong  in  itself  to  gain  a 
temporary  good.  My  father  apprenticed  me  to  you 
until  I  was  twenty-one,  and  I  assented  to  the  con 
tract.  Since  that  time,  I  have  not  thought  about 
being  bound  by  the  law.  I  came  to  you  in  good 
faith,  and  will  remain  in  your  service  until  I  am  a 
man." 

"  Just  the  sentiments  I  expected  to  hear  you 
utter,  Hartley,"  replied  Mr.  Preston  >to  this,  his 
whole  manner  changing.  "  No — no.  I  have  not 
misunderstood  you — I  have  not  thought  so  poorly 
of  you.  I  would  have  been  greatly  surprised  and 
disappointed  indeed,  if  any  son  of  Mr.  Stevens  had 
proved  so  lost  to  honor  and  conscience  as  to  take 
advantage  of  such  an  opportunity  as  now  offers 
itself.  I  shall,  with  pleasure,  communicate  the 
fact  to  your  father.  It  will  do  him  good  to  hear 
it." 

Hartley  went  back  to  his  work  with  feelings  that 
might  well  be  envied.  The  happiness  which  comes  as 
the  reward  of  conscious  rectitude,  is  among  the  purest 
and  most  delightful  emotions  that  the  human  mind 
experiences.  How  blind  and  foolish  are  they  who 
rob  themselves  of  this  delight  in  their  selfish  efforts 
to  attain  some  coveted  good  at  the  expense  of  honor 
and  virtue !  To  an  act  of  this  latter  kind  always 


THE  WAY  TO   PROSPER. 


succeeds   disappointment,  pain  and  regret.      The 
result  is  as  certain  as  that  effect  follows  cause. 

The  last  year  of  Hartley's  apprenticeship  soon 
passed  away,  and  he,  too,  stood  among  his  fellow- 
men  as  a  man,  responsible  to  society  and  to  heaven 
for  every  act  he  might  perform. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

Two  years  after  Hartley  Avas  free,  the  young  men 
determined  to  make  their  long  purposed  start  in  the 
world,  as  master-printers.  Victor,  in  the  five  years 
he  had  been  doing  journey  work,  had  saved  six  hun 
dred  dollars,  and  Hartley,  in  two  years,  had  saved 
three  hundred.  With  this  money  they  furnished  a 
small  office,  and  opened  it  for  work.  No  articles 
of  co-partnership  were  drawn  up ;  no  stipulation  in 
regard  to  a  division  of  profits  made.  They  com 
menced  business  as  one  man,  and  their  joint  interest 
was  felt  to  be  a  unit  rather  than  a  duality. 

The  prospects  of  the  two  young  men,  for  some 
time  after  opening  their  office,  were  by  no  means 
flattering.  It  was  a  dull  year  for  business,  and  few 
of  the  old-established  offices  were  fully  employed. 
Victor,  whose  organ  of  hope  had  not  become  so 
largely  developed  as  that  of  Hartley,  finding  weeks 
and  months  running  away  without  bringing  them 
any  thing  more  than  a  few  odd  jobs,  the  whole  re 
ceipts  from  which  ~-did  not  pay  their  boarding  and 


THE   WAY   TO   PROSPER.  121 

rent,  began  to  grow   disheartened  ;   but  Hartley 
always  spoke  encouragingly. 

"Never  fear  but  what  our  time  will  come,"  he 
would  say,  when  Victor  desponded.     "  Every  thing 
must  have  a  beginning.     The  largest  river  in  the 
world  may  be  traced  back  to  an  insignificant  rivu 
let." 

"  But  we  are  not  making  our  expenses,"  objects- 
Victor. 

"  Remember,  six  months  have  not  elapsed  yet, 
and  we  didn't  calculate  to  pay  expenses  in  less  than 
six  months.  There  is  a  small  perceptible  increase, 
and  that  promises  every  thing,"  replies  the  confident 
brother. 

Six  months  go  by$  and  still  the  experiment  fails 
to  pay,  although  everything  in  the  ofiice  is  done  by 
the  brothers,  with  the  aid  of  a  small  boy.  Even 
Hartley  begins  to  feel  serious,  though  he  is  far 
from  despondency.  An  obstruction  in  his  way  but 
quickened  his  thoughts,  and  made  them  active  about 
the  means  of  overcoming  the  difficulty.  There  was 
a  certain  book  of  moral  precepts  which  had  fallen 
into  the  hands  of  Hartley  some  years  before,  and 
with  which  he  was  much  pleased  and  benefitted. 
Wishing  to  possess  it  for  a  certain  purpose,  he  in 
quired  for  it  at  one  or  two  of  the  bookstores,  with 
the  intention  of  buying  it,  but  was  unable  to  find  a 
copy. 

"  It  has  been  out  of  print  these  two  years,"  said 
one  of  the  booksellers,  to  whom  he  applied.  "  I 
don't  think  you  will  find  a  copy  in  Boston." 

Hartley  thought  about  this  after  leaving  the  store 
of  the  bookseller,  and  it  occurred  to  him  that  it 


122  THE  WAY  TO   PROSPER. 

would  be  a  good  book  to  print.  For  a  day  or  two 
his  mind  kept  reverting  to  this ;  and  then  he  went 
back  to  the  bookseller  and  suggested  the  publication 
of  the  volume,  at  the  same  time  offering  to  print  it. 
The  bookseller  at  first  shook  his  head ;  then,  after 
reflection,  he  said  he  would  think  about  it,  and  told 
Hartley  to  call  in  a  few  days,  and  if  he  concluded 
to  get  out  the  book,  he  should  have  the  printing. 

The  decision  in  the  mind  of  the  bookseller  was 
favorable.  He  determined  to  print  the  work,  and 
on  the  very  next  day  sent  for  Hartley,  and  engaged 
to  have  it  done.  With  what  a  hopeful,  happy  spirit, 
did  the  two  brothers  commence  setting  the  types  on 
this,  their  first  important  job  !  After  getting  up  a 
form,  Victor  worked  it  off  on  the  press,  while  Hart 
ley  continued  at  the  case.  The  edition  was  twelve 
hundred  copies.  In  the  course  of  four  or  five  weeks, 
the  sheets,  accurately  and  beautifully  printed,  and 
pressed  as  smooth  as  glass,  were  delivered  to  the 
bookseller,  who  expressed  himself  as  very  much 
pleased  with  the  style  of  workmanship  displayed, 
and  said  that  when  he  had  anything  more  to  do  they 
should  certainly  have  the  work.  Several  small 
pampblets  came  in  after  this,  and  they  were  busy 
for  the  next  few  weeks.  Then  it  was  dull  again. 
In  the  midst  of  this  dull  time,  a  man  came  in  and 
asked  them'  if  they  could  print  large  show  bills. 
Hartley  replied  that  they  would  print  anything. 
If  they  had  not  the  letter  wanted,  they  would  pro 
vide  themselves  with  it. 

"  My  printing  is  of  some  consequence,"  said  the 
'man.  "  I  havn't  been  treated  well  at  the  office 
•where  it  is  now  done,  and  am  going  to  take  it  some- 


THE   WAY  TO   PROSPER.  123 

where  else.  My  bills  are  never  less  than  fifty  dol 
lars  a  week." 

"What  kind  of  bills  are  they?"  inquired  Hart 
ley. 

"  Theatre  bills,"  replied  the  man. 

"  How  many  do  you  have  done  ?" 

"  Two  hundred  large  posters,  and  from  three  to 
eight  hundred  small  bills  every  day.  It's  a  good 
job  for  any  office,  and  for  young  beginners,  as  you 
are,  will  be  just  the  dandy.  Of  course  you  will 
have  free  admission  for  all  in  your  office.  The  work, 
however,  must  be  done  at  a  pretty  low  figure,  though 
not  so  low  but  that  you  will  make  a  handsome  pro 
fit." 

Hartley  told  the  man  that  he  would  talk  with  his 
brother  about  it,  and  give  him  an  answer  during  the 
day.  When  the  matter  was  first  mentioned  to  Vic 
tor,  he  was  a  good  deal  elated. 

"  It's  the  very  thing,"  said  he.  "  I  wouldn't  ask 
a  better  start  than  the  printing  for  a  theatre." 

Hartley  did  not  respond  to  this  very  cordially. 
His  countenance,  instead  of  showing  an  elevated 
expression,  was  rather  more  serious  than  usual. 

"It's  a  good  chance,  I  know,"  he  remarked,  after 
musing  for  some  time,  "  but  my  mind  isn't  so  clear 
that  we  ought  to  have  anything  to  do  with  the  busi 
ness." 

"We  don't  approve  of  the  theatre,  of  course," 
was  Victor's  reply  to  this.  "  But,  our  printing  the 
bills  as  a  simple  mechanical  operation,  doesn't  in 
any  way  involve  us  in  the  responsibility  of  the  mat 
ter,  nor  commit  us  in  favor  of  what  we  don't  ap 
prove.  Were  we  to  make  our  own  full  approval  of 


124  THE  WAY  TO   PROSPER. 

everything  offered  to  us  as  printers  the  rule  in  re« 
gard  to  accepting  work,  we  would  soon  be  com 
pelled  to  close  our  office.  I'm  very  sure  that  I  am 
far  from  assenting  to  the  doctrines  taught  in  the 
pamphlet  we  printed  for  Williams.  But,  the  writer 
and  publisher  are  responsible  to  society,  not  we  who 
merely  set  the  types  and  print  the  paper.  No 
painter,  who  stood  in  need  of  work,  would  refuse  to 
execute  a  piece  of  scenery  for  the  stage  because  he 
did  not  approve  of  theatric  representations  ;  nor 
would  a  tailor,  refuse,  on  the  same  ground,  to  make 
a  particular  costume  for  an  actor." 

"  So  far  as  that  is  concerned,"  said  Hartley, 
"  every  man  must  be  left  free  to  do  as  his  own 
sense  of  right  dictates.  To  the  mere  printing  of 
the  bills,  viewed  as  a  simple  mechanical  operation, 
I  have  no  objection.  But,  the  fact  is,  Victor,  I 
don't  like  the  idea  of  having  any  kind  of  association 
with  these  men  as  a  class.  If  we  print  for  them, 
we  will  have  some  of  them  running  in  and  out  here 
every  day.  Our  apprentice  will  see  and  read  the 
bills  we  print ;  and  not  only  this,  but  will  have  to 
carry  them  to  the  theatre,  where  he  will  meet  those 
connected  therewith  and  be  invited  to  come  and  see 
the  performances.  The  man  who  was  here  said 
that  all  in  the  office  would  be  entitled  to  free  ad 
mission.  I  hardly  think  it  right  for  us  to  subject 
him  to  such  a  temptation.  Moreover,  if  work  comes 
in  freely,  we  must  take  another  boy  soon,  and  he 
will  be  open  to  the  same  evil  influences.  The  fact 
is.  brother  Victor,  if  we  are  going  to  have  anything 
to  do  with  printing  for  the  theatre,  we  may  as  well 


THE  WAY  TO   PROSPER.  125 

give  up,  at  once,  all  idea  of  caring  for  the  moral 
well-being  of  those  under  our  charge  as  apprentices." 

"  I  didn't  think  of  that,"  was  Victor's  reply. 
"  If  there  is  the  danger  you  apprehend — and  I  am 
inclined  to  think  your  fears  well  grounded — let  us 
by  no  means  touch  the  work.  Far  better  for  us  to 
close  our  office  and  go  back  to  our  old  position  as 
journeymen." 

"  Just  my  own  view.  And  now  for  our  decision. 
Shall  we  or  shall  we  not  decline  this  work?" 

Victor  hesitated  for  some  moments  before  reply 
ing. 

"•I  think  we  had  better  decline  it,"  he  at  length 
said, -in  a  slightly  depressed  tone. 

"  So  do  I,"  was  more  cheerfully  responded  by 
Hartley.  "  And  rely  upon  it,  this  seeming  loss 
in  the  present  will  be  a  great  gain  in  the  future. 
Who  can  touch  pitch  and  not  be  defiled  ?  To  a 
moral  certainty,  if  we  had  taken  this  theatre  print 
ing  it  would  have  been  the  means  of  introducing 
trouble  into  our  office." 

When  the  Manager  of  the  theatre  came  for  a 
decision  on  his  application,  it  was  in  the  negative. 
He  did  not  seem  to  be  very  well  pleased,  particularly 
as  the  young  men  resorted  to  none  of  the  too  custom 
ary  business  subterfuges  used  in  such  cases,  but 
simply  gave  as  a  reason,  that  they  would  prefer  not 
doing  the  work. 

Six  months  after  this,  and  at  a  time  when  Victor 
and  Hartley  Stevens  had  as  much  work  as  they 
could  do,  they  were  told  that  a  young  man  who 
went  into  business  a  year  before  they  did  had  failed. 
On  inquiring  as  to  the  cause,  it  was  replied — 


126  THE   WAT  TO   PROSPER. 

"  He  was  ruined  by  the  theatre  printing." 

"  How  so  ?"  was  inquired. 

j|.     "  The  manager  lost  money  by  the  season,  and 
couldn't  pay  his  bills." 

"  How  much  did  he  owe  the  printer  ?" 

"Nearly  three  hundred  dollars.  He  had  bor 
rowed  the  money  on  which  he  commenced  business, 
and  the  man  who  loaned  it,  seeing  that  he  was  losing 
at  this  rate,  sold  him  out  to  save  himself." 

"  Nothing  is  ever  loft,"  said  Hartley  to  his 
brother,  when  they  were  alone,  "  by  acting  from  a 
principle  of  right.  If  we  had  looked  only  at  the 
money,  and  cared  nothing  for  the  welfare  of  those 
who  might  be  employed  in  our  office,  we  could  have 
secured  that  printing.  But  see  what  would  have 
been  the  result." 

After  they  had  declined  working  for  the  theatre, 
the  brothers  got  nothing  to  do  of  any  importance 
for  two  or  three  months,  not  making  their  expenses 
during  the  time.  They  often  felt  gloomy  and  anx 
ious,  but  strove  manfully  to  repress  all  such  emotions, 
and  to  look  forward  hopefully.  Not  once  did  either 
of  them  regret  having  declined  an  offer  that  promised 
BO  well.  The  act,  upon  reflection,  met  their  hearti 
est  approval. 

Work  began  to  flow  in  again  after  this  dull  sea 
son.  They  got  a  large  book  to  print,  which  occupied 
them  several  months,  and  upon  which  they  made  a 
very  good  profit,  lighter  jobs  having,  in  the  mean 
while  paid  all  their  expenses.  From  this  time  they 
experienced  more  steady,  favoring  breezes. 

Three  years  went  by,  with  its  ups  and  downs,  its 
seasons  of  encouragement  and  discouragement,  and 


THE  WAY  TO   PEOSPER. 


the  two  brothers  found  themselves  with  about  three 
hundred  dollars  in  money  saved  from  work,  besides 
an  office  much  increased  in  value  beyond  its  original 
standard.  With  this  money,  after  carefully  con 
sidering  the  matter,  they  determined  to  print,  a 
certain  book,  of  which  there  were  no  copies  in  the 
market,  and  sell  the  whole  edition,  when  ready,  to 
some  publisher,  or,  in  default  of  finding  any  one 
willing  to  take  it  off  of  their  hands,  to  publish  it 
themselves  and  wait  until  it  went  off  under  the 
regular  demand  that  might  arise.  The  latter  expe 
dient  they  found  necessary,  and  the  book  appeared. 
Its  typography  was  good,  considering  the  state  of 
the  art  at  the  time,  and  as  they  distributed  it  freely 
to  editors  in  the  larger  cities,  it  received  such  fa 
vorable  notices  fronf  the  press,  as  to  induce  book 
sellers  to  order  it  freely.  In  less  than  a  year,  not 
a  copy  of  the  edition  remained  on  their  hands.  In 
the  meantime  they  had  issued  another  book,  which 
met  with  a  like  good  reception,  and  were  now  en 
gaged  upon  a  third.  But  in  these  operations  it  was 
a  fixed  rule  not  to  incur  debt,  nor  attempt  to  go 
faster  than  healthy  openings  in  the  market  warran 
ted.  The  system  of  driving  business  to  an  extent 
involving  danger,  was  not  a  part  of  their  policy. 
Their  motto  was  —  "No  such  word  as  fail!"  and, 
therefore,  no  step  was  taken  without  prudence  and 
forethought.  This  was  the  secret  of  their  safe 
progression. 

11 


: 


128  THE  WAT  TO   PROSPER. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

AFTER  Thomas  became  free,  he  continued  in  the 
employment  of  his  old  master,  earning  good  wages, 
and  spending  no  money  that  was  not  required  to 
meet  his  ordinary  wants.  He  had  been  out  of  his 
time  three  years,  and  had  saved  up  a  few  hundred 
dollars,  when  his  father,  whose  circumstances  had 
yearly  improved,  said  to  him,  on  the  occasion  of  a 
visit  to  the  old  homestead — 

"  How  much  money  have^^fcu  laid  by,  my  son  ?" 
"Five  hundred  dollars,"  replied  Thomas. 
"  Five  hundred.  That  is  doing  very  well.  Isn't 
it's  most  time  for  you  to  think  of  making  a  start 
for  yourself?  Victor  and  Hartley  are  doing  very 
•well.  It  was  dull  with  them  at  first,  as  it  is  with 
all  new  beginners  ;  and  it  will  be  dull  with  you  for 
a  season.  You  are  now  twenty-four,  and  by  the 
time  you  are  twenty-six  you  ought  to  be  fairly  un 
der  way.  How  much  will  an  office  large  enough  to 
do  a  pretty  fair  range  of  work  cost?" 

"The  office  of  Victor  and  Hartley  cost  nine  hun 
dred  at  the  beginning." 
"Was  it  large  enough?" 
"  Oh,  yes.     But  I  have  only  five  hundred." 
"  No  matter.     I  can  help  you  a  little." 
Thomas  did  not  appear  as  much  gratified  by  this 
offer  as  Mr.  Stevens  had  expected. 


THE  WAY  TO   PROSPER.  129 

"I  hardly  know  what  to  say,"  replied  the  young 
man,  in  evident  perplexity  of  mind. 

"What  is  in  the  way?"  inquired  the  father. 
"  Are  you  timid  about  the  matter  ?" 

"  Oh,  no.  I  am  not  in  doubt  as  to  the  result. 
I  know  very  well  that  I  shall  succeed,  whenever  I 
go  into  business." 

"  Then  why  not  go  now?  The  way  is  open.  I 
can  spare  you  three  or  four  hundred  dollars  with 
out  feeling  it;  or  even  more,  if  necessary." 

"  The  fact  is,  father,"  said  Thomas,  in  reply  to 
this — "  There  is  but  one  objection,  and  that  trou 
bles  me  whenever  I  think  of  it.  If  my  trade  were 
any  other  than  that  of  a  printer,  I  would  not  hesi 
tate  a  moment.  But  my  brothers  are  only  now 
beginning  to  do  well,  and  I  cannot  bear  the  thought 
of  seeming  to  enter  into  rivalry  with  them.  If  I 
established  an  office,  some  work  that  would,  other 
wise,  go  to  them,  will  come  to  me  ;  and  it  might 
create  an  unpleasant  feeling.  I  know  of  just  such 
work.  There  is  one  bookseller  who  superintends 
the  Sabbath  School  in  which  I  am  teacher,  who  has 
said  to  me  that  whenever  I  went  into  business,  I 
might  calculate  on  a  good  share  of  his  work ;  and 
it  all  goes  now  to  the  office  of  Victor  and  Hartley." 

"  There  is  something  in  that,"  replied  Mr.  Ste 
vens,  thoughtfully.  "  Still  you  are  a  man,  and  the 
world  is  wide  enough  for  you  all.  You  cannot 
forego  seeking  your  own  temporal  well-being  in  a 
right  and  orderly  way,  for  fear  that  doing  so  will 
interfere  with  your  brothers.  I  am  certain  that 
neither  Victor  nor  Hartjby  will  feel  unkindly  about 

12 


130  THE  WAT  TO   PROSPER. 

it.  In  fact  they  would  have  no  right  to  do  so. 
They  went  into  business,  and  you  have  the  same 
privilege." 

Thomas  assented  to  all  this ;  and  yet  his  mind 
remained  in  doubt.  He  shrunk  back  from  "  the 
very  appearance  of  evil." 

"Suppose  you  talk  with  them  about  it?"  sug 
gested  Mr.  Stevens. 

"  They  would,  of  course,  give  their  consent,  no 
matter  how  they  might  feel,"  replied  Thomas, 
"  and  that  wouldn't,  in  the  least,  take  away  my  ob 
jection." 

"  Oh  no,  my  son.  They  are  not  so  unreasonable 
as  all  that.  Their  own  good  sense  and  good  feel 
ing  would  produce  better  impressions.  My  own 
opinion  is,  that  the  fact  of  your  speaking  to  them 
on  the  subject,  will  make  all  as  plain  before  you  as 
you  can  desire.  They  will  see  what  is  in  your 
mind,  and  appreciate  the  delicacy  and  goodwill 
that  prompts  you  to  speak  of  it." 

On  reflection,  Thomas  concluded  to  act  upon  his 
father's  advice.  On  returning  to  the  city,  he  went 
to  his  brother's  office.  He  found  Victor  alone,  and 
introduced  the  subject  by  saying,  without  any  pre 
liminaries,  whatever — 

"  Brother  Victor,  I  have  five  hundred  dollars  laid 
up,  and  father  says,  that  if  I  wish  to  go  into  busi 
ness,  he  will  lend  me  as  much  more  as  will  be 
wanted  to  furnish  a  small  office." 

Victor  looked  more  pleased  than  surprised  at 
this. 

"And  so  you  wish  to  go  into  business  ?"  said  he. 


THE  WAY  TO   PROSPER.  131 

"  I  have  been  saving  my  money  for  that  purpose," 
replied  Thomas.  "  I  don't  want  to  be  a  journey 
man  all  my  life." 

"  Of  course  not.  There  are  plenty  who  are  con 
tent  to  plod  along ;  plenty  who  are  thriftless  and 
idle ;  plenty  who  had  rather  spend  their  money  in 
useless  self-indulgence,  than  save  it  for  the  purpose 
of  going  into  business  and  rising  in  the  world. 
There  is  room  enough  for  the  industrious  and  enter 
prising,  Thomas." 

"So  I  think,"  replied  the  brother.  " But,  there 
is  one  thing  about  the  matter  that  rather  troubles 
my  mind.  I  spoke  to  father  about  it,  and  he  said 
I'd  better  mention  it  to  you." 

"  Well,  what  is  it,  Thomas?" 

"  The  fear  that  my  going  into  business  might  ap 
pear  like  rivalry  to  you.  Some  work  that  you  now 
get,  I  may  receive.  I  have  no  wish  to  tear  you 
down  in  the  effort  to  build  myself  up." 

"  We  know  that,  Thomas,"  replied  Victor.  "Were 
you  to  take  an  office  next  door  to  us,  we  should  not 
have  even  the  imagination  of  such  a  thing." 

"  How  do  you  think  Hartley  will  feel  about  it  ?" 
asked  Thomas. 

"  Come  round  to-morrow  and  I  will  answer  that 
question,"  said  Victor  smiling. 

In  the  morning  Thomas  came  round. 

"Have  you  talked  with  brother  Hartley'/"  he 
inquired. 

"  I  have,"  said  Victor. 

"  What  does  he  say  ?" 

"  He  doesn't  like  the  idea  of  your  going  into 
business,"  replied  Victor,  gravely. 
11* 


132  THE  WAT  TO   PROSPER. 

The  countenance  of  Thomas  fell. 

"He  thinks,"  continued  Victor,  "that  it  would 
be  much  better  for  all  concerned,  if  you  would  put 
what  money  yon  have  into  our  business,  and  go  in 
as  a  partner.  And  I  think  so,  too.  In  union  there 
is  strength,  Thomas." 

The  cloud  which  came  over  the  young  man's 
countenance  was  instantly  dispersed,  and  a  gleam 
of  light  flashed  over  it. 

"  I  did  not  expect  this,"  said  he,  with  manifest 
satisfaction. 

"  Though  we  have  thought  and  spoke  of  it  often," 
replied  Victor.  "  We  are  willing  to  work,  and  can 
mutually  trust  each  other.  That  is  a  great  deal. 
Our  business  is  rapidly  on  the  increase,  and  we 
want  all  the  intelligent  and  interested  assistance 
you  can  bring.  Your  money  will  enable  us  to  get 
out  a  new  book,  which  we  have  just  received  from 
England,  upon  which  we  shall  clear  a  handsome 
profit,  and  your  aid  in  the  business  will  enable  us  to 
turn  more  attention  to  publishing,  to  which,  in  a 
few  years,  we  will  no  doubt  find  it  our  interest  to 
entirely  limit  ourselves.  The  profit,  you  know,  is 
double.  We  get  returns  both  as  printers  and 
publishers." 

"  When  shall  this  arrangement  go  into  effect  ?" 
said  Thomas,  after  expressing,  warmly,  his  delight 
at  the  unexpected  proposition. 

"Immediately,"  replied  Victor 

"  I'll  finish  my  week's  work,  and  join  you  on 
Monday." 

"  That  will  do.  The  book  I  spoke  of,  we  will 
put  in  h^nd,  and  hurry  it  quickly  through  the  press." 


THE  WAY  TO   PROSPER.  183 

» 

"  If  you  wish  to  use  the  five  hundred  dollars  be 
fore  Monday,"  said  Thomas,  "  I  will  give  you  a 
check  for  it  now." 

"No,  we  have  a  Couple  of  hundred  dollars  in 

bank.     That  money  we  will  reserve  to  pay  for  the 

i  ,  .    -,.      r»  r  J 

paper  and  binding. 

On  Monday,  as  agreed  upon,  Thomas  Stevens 
joined  his  brothers  in  business. 

It  would  be  difficult  to  say  which  of  the  three 
brothers  was  most  pleased  by  this  arrangement. 
Thomas  showed  his  gratification  more,  because  he 
was  younger,  and  the  event  was  so  unexpected; 
but  the  pleasure  he  felt  was  no  deeper,  nor  more 
real,  than  that  experienced  by  the  two  elder  bro 
thers. 

The  book,  which  the  money  of  Thomas  enabled 
the  firm  to  get  out,  was  a  large  and  costly  volume ; 
but  it  was  the  new  work  of  a  popular  author  and 
met  a  rapid  sale.  The  first  edition  of  fifteen  hun 
dred  copies,  on  which  they  made  a  large  profit,  was 
exhausted  in  three  months,  and  a  new  edition  de 
manded.  An  edition  of  two  thousand  copies  was 
then  passed  through  the  press,  which  was  all  gone 
in  less  than  a  twelve-month.  Six  other  books  were 
published  during  the  year,  on  all  of  which  good  pro 
fits  were  made. 

From  that  time  the  increase  of  business  was  rapid. 
A  credit  with  paper  makers,  binders,  and  others,  to 
any  amount  they  desired,  was  open  to  the  brothers, 
and  this  enabled  them  to  avail  themselves  of  every 
good  opportunity  that  offered  for  getting  up  books, 
that  promised  to  have  a  fair  run  in  the  market,  and 
to  wait  for  a  return  of  sales. 


134  THE  WAY  TO   PROSPER. 

• 
_^— 

Three  years  more  of  prosperity  determined  the 
brothers  to  make  a  change  in  their  business.  Up 
to  this  time  they  had  confined  themselves  to  mere 
printing  and  publishing.  They  now  took  into 
serious  consideration  the  establishment  of  a  retail 
trade  in  Boston,  and  finally  determined  to  do  so. 
A  handsome  store  was  taken  on  Washington  street, 
and  the  entire  branch  of  business  placed  in  the 
hands  of  Hartley  Stevens,  as  the  one  acknowledged 
to  be  most  competent  for  its  management.  From 
this  time  book  selling,  as  well  as  printing  and 
publishing,  made  a  part  of  the  operations  of  the 
firm.  In  order  to  secure  the  most  perfect  efficiency 
in  every  branch,  Victor  had  charge  of  the  publish 
ing  department,  Hartley  of  the  store,  and  Thomas 
of  the  printing  operations ;  and  each,  by  daily  con 
ference,  was  kept  fully  acquainted  with  the  general 
state  of  all  the  other  branches  of  business.  Thus, 
while  each  worked  in  his  own  department,  he  saw, 
all  the  while,  the  harmony  of  his  efforts  with  the 
rest,  and  how  the  whole  establishment  was  moving 
on  as  if  conducted  by  a  single  mind.  Such  a  thing 
as  jarring  was  not  known  in  any  part  of  this  beau 
tifully  working  machinery.  Mutual  confidence, 
mutual  interests,  and  a  mutual  deference  of  opinion, 
formed  a  bond  of  union,  and  made  three  men  act  as 
one. 

Turning  from  this  picture  of  brotherly  concord 
and  success,  let  us,  for  a  brief  period,  contemplate 
one  of  an  opposite  character. 


THE   WAY  TO   PROSPER.  135 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

As  the  sickly  season  approached,  in  the  summer 
following  the  period  when  Peter  Close  attained  the 
age  of  twenty-one  years,  the  young  man,  with  scanty 
clothing,  poor  health,  and  but  little  money  in  his 
pocket,  started  up  the  river  for  Cincinnati.  The 
news  of  his  father's  death,  which  had  reached  him, 
added  to  the  trouble,  pain,  and  disappointment  he 
had  suffered  since  the  ill-advised  step  of  leaving  his 
master  had  been  taken,  and  tended  greatly  to  sober 
his  feelings.  He  made  serious  resolutions  in  regard 
to  the  future ;  determining  to  keep  himself  free  from 
all  idle  and  dissolute  company,  and  to  make  an  ef 
fort  to  get  something  ahead. 

On  arriving  in  Cincinnati,  he  was  so  fortunate  as 
to  obtain  immediate  employment  in  the  office  of  a 
morning  paper.  But,  he  found  the  work  exceed 
ingly  trying  on  his  weakened  body.  Loss  of  rest 
and  prolonged  labor  exhausted  him  so  much,  that 
it  was  with  difficulty  he  could  sometimes  stand  at 
the  case.  He  persevered,  however,  for  a  few  months, 
when  an  opening  occurred  in  a  book  office,  which 
he  gladly  accepted.  Here  he  found  permanent 
work,  and  made  very  good  wages.  By  the  end  of 
a  year,  his  health  was  greatly  improved,  he  had  a 
good  stock  of  clothes,  and  nearly  a  hundred  dollars 
laid  by.  During  his  residence  in  Cincinnati  he  had 
become  familiar  with  the  progress  of  things  in  the 


136  THE   WAT   TO   PROSPER. 

West,  and  understood  something  of  the  advantage 
a  few  hundred  dollars  would  be  to  a  young  man,  if 
possessed  just  at  the  right  moment,  to  enable  him 
to  secure  some  clearly-seen  advantage.  All  around 
him  were  struggling  in  the  effort  to  accumulate  pro 
perty,  and  he  became  inspired  with  the  same  feeling. 
Almost  daily  was  rehearsed  in  his  ears  the  story  of 
gome  one,  who,  not  worth  a  dollar  five  years  before, 
was  now  gathering  in  money  by  thousands ;  and 
such  incidents  only  inflamed  the  desire  he  felt  to 
become  better  off  in  the  world. 

Of  his  brothers,  Peter  Close  knew  nothing.  He 
had  not  heard  of  the  escape  of  William  from  the 
House  of  Refuge,  nor  of  the  disposition  of  Francis 
after  the  death  of  his  father.  William's  conduct 
had  been  so  disgraceful,  that  he  pushed  aside  his 
image  whenever  it  crossed  his  mind;  and,  as  for 
Francis,  though  he  thought  of  him  occasionally,  it 
\vas  with  no  disposition  to  make  any  sacrifices,  nor 
to  give  himself  any  trouble  on  his  account.  Fran 
cis  was  quite  as  old  as  he  was  when  he  went  from 
home,  and,  no  doubt,  fully  as  able  to  take  care  of 
himself.  Nobody  had  ever  helped  him. 

Thus,  narrowing  down  all  his  views  in  life  to  him 
self,  Peter  Close  continued  to  work  on  and  save  his 
money,  with  a  view  of  entering  into  business  at  the 
earliest  fitting  opportunity. 

One  Sunday,  it  was  after  he  had  been  in  Cincin 
nati  about  two  years,  and  when  he  had  saved  over 
two  hundred  dollars,  Peter  was  strolling  along  by  the 
river,  looking  at  the  steamboats  and  the  people, 
when,  most  unexpectedly,  he  encountered  his  bro 
ther  William.  Both  started  in  surprise.  William 


THE  WAY  TO   PROSPER.  137 

was  first  to  extend  his  hand,  which  Peter  could  not 
but  grasp  and  shake.  They  looked  earnestly  at 
each  other,  while  the  blood  mounted  to  their  faces. 

"This  is  very  unexpected,"  said  Peter,  speaking 
first,  though  not  in  a  voice  of  real  pleasure. 

"  I  am  sure  it  is  to  me,"  replied  William.  "  I 
thought  you  were  in  Boston." 

".No ;  I've  been  in  Cincinnati  over  a  year." 

"  You  have  !  It's  strange  we  have  not  met  before. 

have  been  here  over  a  dozen  times  during  that 

riod." 

The  appearance  of  the  two  brothers  presented  a 
strong  contrast.  Peter  was  well  dressed,  and  had 
a  genteel  air ;  but  William  was  coarse  and  rough 
both  in  his  features  and  garments. 

"  What  are  you  doing  ?"  inquired  Peter. 

"  Trading  on  the  river,"  replied  William.  "And 
are  you  still  at  printing  ?" 

"  Yes ;  I'm  at  the  types  yet  for  want  of  a  better 
business." 

The  brothers  had  been  standing  on  the  pavement 
during  this  brief  interview.  Peter  now  said — 

"  Come  !  Let  us  go  on  board  of  one  of  these  boats, 
where  we  will  be  more  to  ourselves." 

The  two  young  men  went  down  to  the  river,  and 
going  on  to  one  of  the  steamers,  took  a  seat  on  the 
guards  where  they  could  be  alone. 

"  When  did  you  hear  from  home  ?"  asked  Wil 
liam. 

"  I  have  not  heard  for  some  time,"  replied  Peter. 
"  I  suppose  you  know  of  father's  death  ?" 

"  Father  dead !"   exclaimed  William,  evincing 


138  THE   WAY  TO   PROSPER. 


both  surprise  and  emotion.  "Is  it  possible !  I 
had  no  idea  of  that." 

"  Oh  yes,"  was  calmly  answered.  "  He  has  been 
dead  for  two  years  and  more." 

"  Bless  me !  I  thought  he  was  still  living. — 
And  Frank — what  of  him  ?" 

Peter  shook  his  head. 

"  Hav'n't  you  heard  from  him  ?" 

"No." 

"  That's  strange." 

"  So  it  is.  But  I've  not  been  home,  and  no  one 
has  written  me  a  word." 

"  Then  you  don't  know  what  has  become  of  the 
old  place  ?  Father  must  have  left  some  property 
when  he  died." 

"Not  much,  I  fancy.  He  let  things  go  so  sadly  to 
wreck  and  ruin  towards  the  end.  But  no  matter 
what  he  left,  uncle  Ned  has  taken  good  care  of  it, 
I'll  warrant." 

"  Though  not  for  our  benefit." 

"  Oh,  no.  He  has  no  weaknesses  of  that  kind. — 
Whatever  goes  into  his  hands,  stays  there.  I  only 
hope  he's  taken  proper  care  of  Frank." 

"  I'll  warrant  he's  pushed  him  adrift  long  ago. — 
He's  one  of  the  most  selfish,  heartless  men  I  ever 
knew.  At  least,  that  is  my  reading  of  his  charac 
ter.  I  wouldn't  trust  him  alone  in  the  room  with 
his  dead  grandmother,  if  there  were  half  dollars  on 
her  eyes  to  keep^ll^m  closed." 

"  Your  judgment  does  not  wrong  him  very  greatly 
I  presume,"  replied  Peter.  "  But  let  him  go  his 
I  never  wish  to  see  him." 

"  I  would  like  to  hear  from  Frank,"  said  William, 


1 


THE  WAY   TO   PROSPER.  141 

with  some  interest  in  his  manner.  "  I  hope  he  has 
not  been  sent  into  the  city.  It's  a  dreadful  place 
for  an  unprotected  hoy — dreadful !  dreadful !" 

"Though  thousands  have  to  take  their  chance 
there  as  we  did." 

"  And  such  a  chance !"  said  William,  half  shud 
dering,  as  his  mind  too  vividly  sketched  some  pictures 
of  the  past.  "  Such  a  chance  !  Alone,  amid  temp 
tations  on  every  hand,  and  driven  into  evil  by  wrong 
treatment — what  hope  is  there  for  a  boy  ?  It  is 
small;  very  small." 

"  It  is  a  bad  place,  I  know,"  responded  Peter, 
realizing  in  some  sense  the  perceptions  of  his  bro 
ther's  mind. 

"  Heaven  help  Frank,  if  he  be  in  it !"  said  Wil 
liam,  with  much  apparent  feeling. 

A  silence  of  some  moments  followed,  during  which 
time  the  thoughts  of  neither  of  the  brothers  were  of 
the  most  pleasant  kind. 

"  How  long  do  you  remain  here  ?"  ai&ed  Peter. 

"  I'm  not  certain,"  replied  William.  "  We  came 
down  from  Portsmouth  with  a  load  of  flour,  which 
we  want  to  sell  here ;  and  then  take  in  pork,  bacon 
and  lard  for  New  Orleans.  It  may  be  two  or  three 
weeks  before  we  move  down  the  river." 

"  You're  on  a  flat  boat  ?" 

"Yes." 

"  Any  interest  in  it  ?" 

"  Yes;  I  own  a  small  share  of  both  the  boat  and 
cargo.  I  manage  to  make  a  little  every  time  I  go 
down  the  river,  and  thus  increase  my  interest  in 
the  business." 

"  What  is  your  interest  now  worth  ?" 
12 


142  THE   WAT  TO   PROSPER. 

"  About  three  hundred  dollars." 

"  Indeed."  Peter  felt  a  certain  respect  for  his 
brother,  not  previously  entertained,  forming  itself 
in  his  mind. 

"  How  long  has  it  taken  you  to  accumulate  this  ?" 

"  About  a  year.  But  in  my  next  trip  down  the 
river  I  hope  to  double  it." 

"  You  do  ?" 

"  Oh,  yes.  All  that  is  wanted  to  make  money  in 
this  business,  is  money  to  work  with.  When  I  had 
only  twenty  or  thirty  dollars  ahead,  the  returns 
were  slow.  But  now  they  will  come  in  a  little  more 
to  my  satisfaction.  It  won't  be  long,  I  trust,  before 
I  will  be  able  to  own  an  entire  boat-load  of  produce 
myself,  and  pocket  all  the  profits." 

Respect  for  his  brother  continued  to  increase  in 
the  mind  of  Peter. 

"Your  prospects  are  far  better  than  mine,"  he 
remarked,  with  a  sjightly  perceptible  disappoint 
ment  in  his  lone,  of  voice.  •"  Pve  only  been  able 
to  save  up  about  two  hundred  dollars.  But  then 
I  had  one  very  bad  year.,  I  took  the  fever  in  New 
Orleans,  and  the  next  winter  had  the  inflammatory 
rheumatism.  I  came  as  near  dying  as  I  ever  wish 
to  be.  The  fact  is,  I've  not  yet  fairly  recovered 
from  the  effect  of  that  sickness,  and  may  never  get 
over  it  while  I  live." 

"  This  delving  at  a  trade  is  a  slow  way  to  get 
along,"  remarked  William.  "  A  man's  wit,  en 
terprise  and  sagacity,  don't  help  him  on  in  the 
least.  I've  no  fancy  for  the  thing,  and  never  had." 

The  idea  that  his  brother  was  getting  along  in 
the  world  so  much  better  than  himself,  oppressed 


THE  WAY  TO   PROSPER.  143 

the  mind  of  Peter,  and  made  him  feel  dissatisfied. 
He  looked  serious,  and  in  fact,  felt  troubled.  It 
glanced  along  his  thoughts,  that  if  there  were  any 
thing  in  deserving  success,  he  certainly  deserved  to 
prosper  more  than  his  brother.  The  motions  of 
envy  were  perceptible  in  his  heart.  There  arose  a 
wish  to  share  in  William's  better  fortune." 

Nearly  the  whole  of  that  day  was  spent  together 
in  a  mutual  relation  of  adventures  since  their  se 
paration  years  before.  William  spoke  of  the  wrong 
that  had  been  done  him  in  sending  him  off  to  the 
Refuge  for  a  trifling  act,  which,  if  it  had  been  pro 
perly  met  by  his  master,  would  never  have  been 
repeated.  He  related  his  sufferings  there,  and  his 
escape.  Since  then,  he  had  seen  life  in  some  of  its 
worst  aspects ;  and  sickened  with  the  follies  into 
which  youth  had  led  him,  was  now  bent  on  pursuing 
the  read  to  wealth,  and  securing  gain  as  the  greatest 
good. 

"  I  shall  not  rest,"  said  he,  "until  Ij»own  a  first- 
class  steamer.  Then  my  fortune  is  made." 

When  Peter  separated  with  his  brother  at  night, 
he  felt  more  dissatisfied  than  had  been  the  case  for 
many  months.  William  was  making  rapid  strides 
in  t.he  way  of  prosperity,  while  he  was  plodding 
along,  with  scarcely  a  visible  progress.  On  Mon 
day  morning  he -went  to  work  less  cheerfully  than 
usual.  His  thoughts  were  on  the  things  heard 
from  his  brother.  All  his  plans  for  the  future  were 
in  confusion.  The  idea  of  joining  some  one,  who 
had  a  little  money,  in  the  publication  of  a  news 
paper  in  some  growing  western  village — this  had 
been  a  favorite  scheme — no  longer  appeared  at- 
13 


144  THE   WAY  TO   PROSPER. 

tractive.  That  was  too  slow  a  way  to  accumulate 
property,  when  compared  with  William's  more  ra 
pid  progress.  At  the  close  of  the  day,  he  sought 
his  brother,  and  had  further  conversation  with  him, 
in  which  he  sought  rather  to  gain  than  impart  in 
formation.  William  was  confident  and  cheerful,  as 
before,  and  spoke  even  more  flatteringly  of  his 
future  prospects.  The  effect  was,  still  further  to 
unsettle  the  mind  of  Peter. 

Thus  their  intercourse  went  on  from  day  to  day, 
the  effect  being  the  same  on  Peter.  He  did  not 
much  like  the  kind  of  company  that  was  around 
his  brother ;  but  that  was  an  attendant  on  the 
pursuit  in  which  he  was  engaged ;  and  he  learned 
to  tolerate  the  apparent  necessity. 

"How  much  money  did  you  say  you  had,"  Wil 
liam  asked  one  day.  Two  weeks  had  elapsed  since 
their  meeting.  "  I  have  forgotten." 

"  Something  rising  of  two  hundred  dollars,"  re 
plied  Pete» 

"  Ah !  yes,  now  I  remember.  What  are  you 
doing  with  it  ?" 

"  Nothing.     It  is  in  one  of  the  banks." 

"  Money  should  never  be  idle,"  said  WTilliam.  "  At 
least  not  when  there  are  so  many  ways  of  using 
it  profitably." 

"  My  own  opinion.  But  not  hating  seen  any  safe 
mode  of  using  it  to  advantage,  I  have  preferred 
letting  it  be  in  safe  hands,  as  it  neither  eats  nor 
drinks  any  thing." 

"  All  very  prudent.  But,  why  don't  you  buy 
produce  and  ship  it  for  New  Orleans  on  the  boats, 


THE  WAT  TO   PROSPEK.  145 

It  pays  handsomely ;  and  is  without  risk,  as  you 
can  always  insure." 

"  I  know  nothing  of  the  business  whatever.  I 
would  not  know  what  to  buy,  nor  to  whom  to  con 
sign  it." 

"  Don't  you  know  any  steamboat  clerk  whom  you 
could  trust." 

"No." 

"  If  you  did,  you  might  operate  handsomely  in 
that  way.  A  certain  percentage  for  attending  to 
the  matter  would  be  all  he  would  ask.  Steamboat 
clerks  do  a  great  deal  of  this  kind  of  business.  The 
owners  get  the  freight  and  they  make  a  commission 
on  sales  in  New  Orleans." 

"I  see." 

"  All  you  want  is  to  make  the  acquaintance  of 
such  a  person,  and  he  will  advise  you  what  to 
buy.  Or,  better  still,  if  you  had  such  a  place 
yourself,  you  would  find  it  a  great  deal  better  than 
printing.  I  know  some  clerks  who  get  a  thousand 
dollars  a  year,  and  gather  in  a  thousand  or  two 
more  in  trading  and  in  commissions." 

This  conversation  completely  unhinged  the  mind 
of  Peter  Close ;  so  much  so  that  his  earnings  dur 
ing  the  week  were  three  dollars  less  than  usual. 
He  could  not  work  with  any  interest.  It  seemed 
a  waste  of  time  that  might  be  so  much  better  em 
ployed. 

At  last  William  mentioned  a  first-rate  chance  to 

buy  a  certain  article  that  always  brought  a  good 

price  in  New  Orleans.      A  lot  was  offered  at  a 

bargain,  which  he  would  certainly  have  taken  him- 

12* 


146  THE   WAT  TO   PROSPER. 


self,  had  he  not  already  invested  all  his  money  in 
pork  and  lard. 

"You  can  double  your  money  on  it,"  he  said  to 
Peter.  "  I  think  I  can  crowd  it  on  to  our  boat, 
and  will  manage  the  sale  for  you  in  New  Orleans. 
When  sold,  by  purchasing  groceries,  and  sending 
them  to  this  place,  a  hundred  dollars  more  may  be 
realised.  Another  successful  trip  will  double  your 
money  again ;  and  then  you  can  throw  away  your 
type  stick,  go  upon  the  river  yourself,  and  manage 
your  own  affairs." 

Peter  reflected  on  all  this  for  some  time.  But 
the  temptation  was  too  great,  and  he  yielded  to  its 
allurements.  The  investment  of  his  two  hundred 
dollars  was  made,  and  the  goods  purchased  there 
with  placed  in  the  hands  of  his  brother,  who  started 
on  the  voyage  to  New  Orleans  a  few  days  afterwards. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

FOR  a  week  after  William's  departure,  golden 
dreams  haunted  the  imagination  of  Peter  Close. 
The  first  thing  now  read  in  the  daily  papers,  was 
the  quotation  of  prices  in  New  Orleans,  and  at 
least  once  every  morning,  the  amount  of  profit  to  be 
realized  upon  his  shipment,  was  cyphered  out,  the 
price  of  the  article  at  the  place  just  named,  forming 
the  basis  of  the  calculation.  A  more  uneasy  and 
less  pleasant  feeling  supervened.  Little  doubts 


THE   WAT  TO   PKOSPER.  147 

began  to  spring  up.  Had  he  been  wise  in  placing 
his  all  in  the  hands  of  William,  without  knowing 
more  of  his  character.  He  had  talked  fair  enough 
— so  could  any  one.  From  Louisville  William  had 
promised  to  write  to  him,  but  had  neglected  doing 
so.  This  worried  him.  A  letter  from  the  mouth  of 
the  Ohio,  somewhat  relieved  his  mind.  It  was  in 
William's  confident  and  cheerful  tone. 

Weeks  now  went  by,  and  all  was  silence  and 
doubt.  A  greater  part  of  every  Sunday  was  spent 
at  the  boat  landings  along  the  river,  in  the  hope  of 
meeting  some  one  who  had  seen  William  on  his  way 
down  the  Mississippi. 

One  Sunday,  it  was  nearly  six  weeks  from  the 
time  his  brother  started  for  New  Orleans,  Peter 
made  some  inquiries  about  him  in  the  presence  of  a 
flat  boatman. 

"  Who's  that  ?  Bill  Close  you're  talking  about  ?" 
asked  the  man,  in  a  rude,  familiar  way. 

"  Yes,"  replied  Peter  ;  "Do  you  know  anything 
about  him?" 

"I  ought  to,"  said  the  man. 

"Why  so?" 

"  He  swindled  me  out  of  twenty  dollars  up  at 
Portsmouth,  a  couple  or  three  months  ago.  I  only 
want  to  get  my  clinchers  on  him !"  The  man 
doubled  his  huge  fist,  and  set  his  teeth  menacingly 
together  as  he  spoke. 

"Swindled  you?"  said  Peter,  in  a  rough,  whis 
pering  voice. 

"  Yes,  as  clear  as  a  whistle.  But  I  deserved  it, 
for  I  knew  he  was  the  biggest  rascal  to  be  found  on 
the  river  from  Pittsburg  to  New  Orleans." 


148  THE   WAY   TO   PROSPER. 

"  Bill  Close,  you  mean,"  spoke  up  a  bystander, 
in  the  rough  dress  of  a  boatman. 

"Yes,  it  was  of  him  that  we  were  speaking," 
said  Peter  ;  "  What  do  you  know  of  him  ?" 

"  I  know  that  I  wouldn't  trust  him  with  a  picay 
une  to  buy  medicine  for  his  sick  sister.  A  greater 
scamp  doesn't  walk  on  two  legs.  I  know  him  like 
a  book.  The  way  he  got  it  down  at  Natches-under- 
the-Hill  last  summer  for  some  of  his  operations,  was 
a  caution.  I  didn't  expect  to  see  the  breath  of  life 
left  in  his  miserable  body." 

"  What  did  he  do  there  ?"  asked  Peter. 

"  He  tried  to  cheat  a  flat  boatman  at  cards.  The 
fellow  caught  him  at  the  work,  and  almost  beat  his 
liver  out  of  him." 

"  He  gambles,  then  ?"  said  Peter. 

"  I  should  think  so — a  regular  blackleg  in  the 
'bit  and  picayune  line.  It  is  not  often  that  he  rises 
to  the  dignity  of  dollars." 

"  I  heard  yesterday,"  said  a  new  comer,  who  had 
joined  the  little  group,  and  heard  a  part  of  the  con 
versation,  "  that  this  Bill  Close  found  some  one  in 
the  city  green  enough  to  put  two  hundred  dollars 
worth  of  produce  in  his  charge  on  his  last  trip  down 
the  river." 

"  Impossible  !"  was  answered  to  this  ;  "  no  one 
could  be  found  fool 'enough  to  do  such  a  thing." 

"If  so,"  said  another,  "he  has  proved,  ere  this, 
the  truth  of  the  .saying,  that  a  fool  and  his  money 
are  soon  parted." 

Sundry  comments  on  this  were  made,  all  expres 
sive  of  surprise,  or  doubt  as  to  the  truth  of  the 
Btory. 


THE   WAY  TO   PROSPER.  149 

"  Two  hundred  dollars  !  Ha  !  ha  !  A  rogue  for 
luck  !  I  never  found  any  body  with  two  hundred 
dollars,  who  was  willing  to  trust  it  in  my  hands," 
was  remarked,  in  a  laughing  voice,  by  another  of 
the  group.  "  Won't  he  have  a  royal  blow  out ! 
By  this  time  he's  in  the  rig  of  a  gentleman,  trying 
his  hand  in  the  cabin  of  some  up-river  steamer." 

Peter  waited  to  hear  no  more.  Sick  at  heart, 
he  turned  away  and  went  back  to  his  lodgings,  with 
such  a  pressure  of  chagrin  and  disappointment  on 
his  feelings,  that  he  could  hardly  walk  steadily  in 
the  street. 

All  of  the  next  week  he  was  too  much  troubled  to 
work.  He  went  several  times  to  the  office,  but  it 
was  impossible  to  bring  his  mind  down  to  the  task 
of  setting  types.  Almost  mad  with  suspense,  he 
determined  to  seek  after  some  certainty,  and  with 
twenty-five  dollars  in  his  pocket,  all  the  money  he 
now  possessed,  he  took  passage  for  New  Orleans. 
On  arriving  there,  he  instituted  a  most  careful  and 
thorough  search  after  some  trace  of  his  brother. 
In  this  he  was  so  far  successful  as  to  discover  the 
man  to  whom  his  goods  had  been  sold.  It  did  not 
give  him  much  satisfaction  to  learn  that  the  sale 
had  been  for  less  than  cost  and  charges. 

Under  the  faint  hope  that  William  might  have 
gone  back  to  Cincinnati,  Peter  returned  up  the  river. 
But  the  hope  was  vain.  His  last  dollar  now  ex 
pended,  the  unhappy  young  man  found  it  necessary 
to  go  to  work  again.  But  his  spirits  were  gone. 
He  had  not  the  same  incentive  to  industry  that  pre 
viously  existed.  His  earnings  were  less  than  before, 
and,  generally,  all  expended  as  he  went  along.  A 


.*•«*?          '"  '•   w  • 
150  THE  WAY  TO   PROSPER. 

feeling  of  bitter  hatred  of  his  brother  arose  in  his 
mind ;  and,  there  were  moments,  when,  if  he  had 
suddenly  come  in  his  way,  he  would  have  been 
tempted  into  personal  violence. 

Habits  of  dissipation  followed,  and  Peter  gra 
dually  sunk  lower  and  lower,  until  he  debased  him 
self  as  a  drunkard.  Two  or  three  years  of  such  a 
life  were  passed,  when  a  long  and  severe  illness, 
from  which  he  slowly  recovered  as  an  inmate  of  the 
almshouse,  to  which  he  had  been  sent  by  the  man 
with  whom  he  boarded,  awakened  him  to  serious  re 
flection  on  his  present  condition  and  future  pros 
pects.  A  resolution  to  reform  was  made  and  kept. 
He  again  went  to  work,  a  sober  man,  and,  by  slow 
degrees,  recovered  from  the  degradation  of  his  fall. 
A  desire  to  do  better  in  the  world,  once  more  quick 
ened  into  a  purpose  in  his  mind.  Small  accumula 
tions  began  to  be  made ;  and,  as  these  increased  from 
tens  to  twenties,  until  he  had  over  a  hundred  dollars 
laid  up,  he  became  more  cheerful  and  hopeful. 
Plans  for  the  future  began  to  grow  upon  him.  He 
once  more  saw  himself  the  owner  of  a  small  printing 
office  and  newspaper  in  a  country  town. 

At  times',  his  thoughts  would  go  back  to  the  past, 
and  then  a  bitterness  would  arise  in  his  heart.  No 
pleasant  flowers  had  grown  along  his  path  through 
life,  to  bless  him  now,  though  faded,  with  their  per 
fume.  As  for  William,  he  had  neither  heard  from, 
nor  seen  him,  since  they  parted  a  few  years  before. 
He  might  be  dead,  for  all  he  knew ;  or,  in  fact,  for 
all  he  cared.  The  thought  of  him  aroused  angry 
feelings  whenever  it  flitted  through  his  mind. 

Peter  Close  was  standing  at  his  work  one  day, 


' 
THE  WAY  TO   PROSPER.  151 

thinking  of  the  future,  and  indulging  in  some 
brighter  dreams  of  prosperity  than  were  usually 
present,  when  a  miserable-looking  object,  pale, 
ragged  and  emaciated,  came  in,  and  asked  for  him. 
Hearing  his  name  mentioned,  Peter  turned,  with 
surprise,  towards  a  stranger,  who,  the  moment  he 
saw  him,  appeared  to  recognize  him,  and  came 
quickly  to  that  part  of  the  office  where  he  was 
standing.  Peter  examined  his  face  carefully,  but 
saw  no  trace  of  a  familiar  feature. 

"  How  do  you  do,  Peter  ?"  said  the  man,  reaching 
out  his  hand.  "  You  don't  appear  to  know  me,"  he 
added. 

"  You  have  the  entire  advantage  of  me,"  said 
Peter,  coldly. 

"  Is  it  possible  you  don't  know  me  ?"  remarked 
the  stranger. 

"  I  do  not." 

"  I  am  your  brother  Frank  !" 

Peter  stepped  back  a  pace  or  two,  exclaiming, 

"  Impossible  !" 

"  No  wonder,  perhaps,  that  you  say  so,"  replied 
the  young  man.  "  For  I  hardly  know  myself. 
Sickness  and  suffering  have  changed  me  dreadfully. 
I've  had  a  hard  time  of  it,  Peter.  But  I  need  not 
tell  you  that.  Look  at  me  !" 

"  Where  have  you  come  from  ?"  asked  the  elder 
brother,  with  a  coldness  of  manner  that  amounted 
almost  to  severity. 

"  I  arrived  here  as  a  deck  passenger  from  St. 
Louis,  yesterday.  I  have  been  trading  and  knock 
ing  about  through  the  far  West  during  the  last  year 
or  two.  Six  months  ago,  I  started  from  Santa  Fe 


•  %;  ..  v* •-' .  f  ^   5r  ;v . ,  *  « "THc    ', 

152  THE  WAY   TO    PROSPER. 

for  the  States,  with  a  snug  little  lot  of  furs ;  but 
was  robbed  and  shot  on  the  way  by  the  Indians. 
More  dead  than  alive  I  reached  St.  Louis,  where  I" 
lay  sick  for  two  or  three  months.  ,To  have  remained 
there  was  as  good  as  to  die.  I  could  not  help  my 
self,  and  there  was  no  one  to  give  me  even  a  cup  of 
water.  I  begged  a  deck  passage  this  far." 

"  Why  did  you  come  here  ?"  asked  Peter. 

"  I  saw  William  at  Fort  Independence  ;  and  he 
said  that  you  were  in  Cincinnati." 

The  brows  of  Peter  contracted. 

"  What  do  you  expect  ?"  he  asked,  his  manner 
still  cold. 

"  Nothing !"  replied  Frank,  in  a  quick  voice, 
while  an  indignant  warmth  burned  for  a  moment  in 
his  pale,  sunken  face.  As  he  spoke,  he  turned  away 
and  retired.  Peter  now  noticed,  for  the  first  time, 
that  one  arm  hung  powerless  by  his  side,  and  that 
he  halted  in  his  gait.  A  more  miserable  looking 
object  he  never  remembered  to  have  seen.  For  a 
few  moments  he  stood  irresolute ;  then  humanity 
conquered — for  there  came  before  his  eyes  the  image 
of  his  mother,  and  an  innocent  child  playing  by  her 
side — that  child  was  his  youngest  brother.  Hastily 
drawing  on  his  coat,  he  followed  the  retreating  form 
of  that  brother. 

"  Frank,"  he  said,  as  he  gained  his  side,  just  as 
he  had  stepped  into  the  street. 

But  his  brother  seemed  not  to  hear  him. 

"  Frank,"  he  repeated.  "  What  do  you  wish  me 
to  do  for  you?" 

"  Nothing !  Nothing  !"  replied  the  young  man, 
neither  pausing  nor  looking  round. 


THE   WAY   TO    PROSPER.  153 

"  If  you  are  sick  and  destitute,  of  course  I  will 
help  you,"  said  Peter. 

"  Will  you  ?"  returned  Frank,  still  moving  along, 
though  with  apparent  difficulty. 

"  Certainly  I  will.     Have  you  lodging  ?" 

"Nor  any  better  clothes  than  these  you  have 
on?" 

"You  see  all  that  there  is  of  me." 

"  Then  I  will  find  you  a  lodging  place,  and  provide 
you  with  better  clothes,"  said  Peter.  "Your  un 
expected  appearance  in  such  a  distressed  condition, 
could  not  but  take  me  by  surprise.  Moreover, 
the  mention  of  William's  name  was,  by  no  means, 
pleasant.  I  suppose  he  said  nothing  of  the  way  in 
which  he  had  swindled  me  out  of  two  hundred  dol 
lars,  and  ruined  my  prospects  for  life." 

"  Did  he  do  that?"  remarked  Frank,  quickly. 

"  He  did;  and  I'll  never  forgive  him,"  said  Peter, 
with  much  bitterness. 

"I'm  sorry,"  returned  Frank,  in  a  voice  of  sin 
cere  regret,  pausing,  as  he  spoke,  and  looking  his 
elder  brother  once  more  in  the  face.  "I  didn't 
like  what  little  I  saw  of  him ;  but  I  thought  better 
of  him  than  that." 

"  From  all  I  can  learn,  he  is  a  most  consummate 
scoundrel,"  said  Peter,  with  bitter  emphasis.  "  But 
come ;  let  us  find  you  a  lodging  place.  First,  how 
ever,  you  must  have  some  better  clothes.  We  will 
step  into  this  store." 

The  young  man  hesitated,  as  his  brother  made  a 
movement  to  enter  a  shop  they  were  about  passing, 
saying,  as  he  did  so,  in  a  sad  voice — 
,13 


154  THE   WAY  TO   PROSPER. 


"  I  don't  wish  to  be  a  burden  to  you,  Peter.  I'm 
all  knocked  to  pieces,  and  not  able  to  keep  myself. 
Perhaps,  I'd  better  get  an  order  to  go  to  the  Alms- 
house,  and  stay  there  until  I  pick  up  again,  or  die." 

There  was  something  about  the  way  in  which  this 
was  said,  that  touched  the  heart  of  Peter  Close, 
cold  and  selfish  as  it  was. 

"It  isn't  worth  while  to  talk  in  that  way,  Frank," 
said  he,  in  reply.  I'm  willing  to  help  you  the  little 
that's  in  my  power.  If  it  hadn't  been  for  William, 
I  would  now  be  worth  some  thousands  of  dollars. 
As  it  is,  I'm  little  more  than  even  with  the  world. 
But  I'm  a  great  deal  better  off  than  you  are.  So 
come  along." 

Frank  yielded,  though  there  was  an  evident  re 
luctance  in  his  manner.  He  had  fondly  hoped  for 
a  different  reception ;  and  the  disappointment  of  a 
first  repulse  created  so  strong  a  reaction  in  his  feel 
ings,  that  he  felt  a  degree  of  self-abandonment,  from 
which  it  was  almost  impossible  to  recover.  In  a 
little  while,  however,  he  became  interested  in  the 
matter  of  purchasing  some  better  clothing.  At  an 
expense  of  nearly  twenty  dollars,  Peter  fitted  him 
out  in  a  coarse  suit,  including  a  hat,  shoes,  shirts 
and  stockings ;  all  of  which  were  put  on  in  the 
dressing  room  of  the  store,  the  old  rags  he  had 
taken  off,  rolled  into  a  bundle  and  thrown  into  the 
street. 

Peter  could  not  help  feeling  satisfaction,  as  he 
looked  at  his  brother's  improved  appearance,  and 
saw  the  grateful  expression  of  his  face. 

"  What's  the  matter  with  your  arm  ?"  he  asked, 


THE  WAY  TO   PROSPER.  155 

observing  more  closely  the  limb,  noticed  as  para 
lyzed  while  trying  on  a  coat. 

"  It  was  shattered  by  a  rifle  ball,  at  the  elbow, 
in  a  fight  with  the  Indians,  and  as  there  was  no 
doctor  to  be  had,  I  lost  the  use  of  it.  It  was 
dreadfully  swelled  and  inflamed  for  some  weeks, 
and  pained  me  awfully.  I  thought  it  was  going  to 
mortify." 

"  Can't  you  move  it  at  all  ?" 

"  No.  It's  all  shrunk  up.  A  doctor  in  St.  Louis 
said  it  was  completely  paralyzed,  and  would  never 
be  of  any  use  to  me." 

"  That's  bad,  indeed." 

"  I  know  it  is ;  very  bad.  I've  wished  a  good 
many  times,  since,  that  I'd  been  killed  outright." 

From  the  clothing  store,  Peter  took  his  brother 
to  a  boarding  house,  where  he  left  him,  promising  to 
come  round  and  see  him  in  the  evening. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

WHEN  Peter  Close  went  back  to  the  printing  office, 
and  reflected  upon  what  had  just  transpired,  he  did 
not  feel  very  comfortable.  In  all  probability,  his 
unfortunate  brother  would  be  an  expense  to  him  for 
months,  and  not  only  prevent  him  from  saving  any 
thing  more,  but  actually  draw  upon  the  little  fund 
already  accumulated.  He  could  not  see  him  want ; 
and  there  was  but  little  prospect  of  his  being  soon 
able  to  help  himself.  In  the  disappointment  he  ex- 
H 


156  THE  WAT   TO    PROSPER. 

perienced,  there  arose  a  latent  wish  in  his  heart, 
that  it  had  been  with  Frank  as  the  unhappy  young 
man  had  himself  wished ;  in  other  words,  that  he 
had  been  killed  by  the  Indians  outright !  In  the 
evening  he  called  to  see  his  brother,  who  related  to 
him  his  history  since  the  death  of  his  father.  It 
was  a  painful  history  in  every  part.  Not  a  gleam 
of  bright  sunshine  seemed  to  have  been  thrown 
across  his  pathway,  at  any  point  of  his  progress. 
Thrust  away  from  home,  while  his  eyes  were  still 
wet  with  tears  for  the  death  of  his  only  parent  and 
friend,  he  found  harshness  and  repulsion  at  every 
turn.  Ill  treatment  drove  him  from  under  the  roof 
of  his  master,  and  since  that  time  he  had  been  a 
wanderer  on  the  face  of  the  earth. 

"I  have  done  much  evil,"  he  said,  in  concluding 
his  narrative ;  "  yet  I  have  had  many  good  desires. 
It  would  have  been  very  different  with  me,  had 
there  been  any  one  in  Boston  to  whom  I  could  have 
looked  for  protection  and  counsel.  If  you  had  only 
•been  there!  Oh!  how  often  I  used  to  wish  "for 
that.  I  would  never  have  left  my  place,  unkindly 
as  I  was  treated,  had  you  been  near  me.  That 
was  my  first  and  greatest  error.  But  I  was  all 
alone,  and  badly  advised.  I  felt  deserted,  and 
became  reckless." 

"  What  has  become  of  the  Stevenses  ?"  asked 
Peter,  after  remaining  silent  for  some  time.  "Were 
they  in  business  when  you  left  ?" 

"  Victor  and  Hartley  Stevens  ?  Oh  yes  !  And 
getting  on  wonderfully." 

Peter  sighed.  Thoughts  of  the  past  came  crowd 
ing  upon  him,  and  he  strove  in  vain  to  thrust  them 


THE   WAT  TO   PROSPER.  157 

from  his  mind.  When  he  went  back  to  his  boarding 
house  he  found  a  printer  there  from  Boston.  The 
reference  which  had  been  made  to  the  Stevenses, 
created  an  interest  to  know  more  of  them. 

"  How  are  the  Stevenses  doing  ?"  he  asked,  while 
conversing  with  this  man. 

"  Doing  well,  of  course." 

"  They  publish  a  good  deal  ?" 

"  They  now  devote  themselves  almost  exclusively 
to  publishing  books." 

"Ah?" 

"  Yes,  and  are  making  money  fast.  Their  es 
tablishment  is  a  very  large  one,  including  one  of 
the  handsomest  book  stores  in  Boston.  They  em 
ploy  nearly  a  hundred  persons." 

"  I  had  no  idea  of  that.  What  has  become  of 
Thomas?" 

"  He's  in  the  business." 

"  Not  as  a  partner  ?" 

"Oh,  yes." 

"  You  surprise  me.  Victor  and  I  were  old  school 
mates.  I  knew  the  whole  family  well." 

"  They  present  a  rare  instance  of  fraternal  con 
cord.  It  is  said  they  never  disagree  even  in  the 
smallest  matters.  I  worked  in  their  office  for  two 
years,  and  I  am  sure  I  never  saw  any  thing  of  the 
kind.  If  all  brothers  would  have  the  same  mutual 
regard  that  the  Stevenses  have  shown,"  continued 
the  man,  "  it  would  be  far  better  for  them.  But, 
in  too  many  instances,  they  separate  with  a  kind  of 
instinctive  antipathy,  and  each  takes  his  own  way, 
indifferent  to  the  other's  welfare.  Victor  Stevens, 
by  his  unselfish  regard  for  those  who  came  after  him 
13* 


158  THE  WAT  TO   PROSPER. 

in  the  path  of  life,  made  their  way  smoother ;  and, 
he  will  lose  nothing  in  the  end,  but,  rather  be  the 
gainer,  even  in  worldly  goods,  to  say  nothing  of  the 
delight  he  must  experience  whenever  a  thought 
connects  the  past  with  the  present." 

To  hear  of  the  prosperity  of  these  old  friends 
of  his  early  years  was  any  thing  but  pleasant  to 
the  feelings  of  Peter  Close.  The  difference  between 
their  condition  and  that  of  his  own  family  was  too 
great ;  and,  moreover,  in  his  own  selfishness,  im 
providence,  and  want  of  early  regard  for  his  younger 
brothers,  lay  the  cause  of  this  difference.  The  same 
way  to  success  in  life  had  been  open  to  his  feet,  had 
he  but  chosen  to  walk  in  it.  He  had  sown  bad 
seed  in  his  field,  and  now  he  was  reaping  the  un 
profitable  harvest. 

When  Peter  Close  retired  to  his  room  that  night, 
he  was  more  unhappy  than  he  had  been  for  a  long 
time.  The  wealth  of  the  Stevenses,  and  their 
bright  prospects  in  life,  contrasted  so  strongly  with 
his  poverty  and  gloomy  prospects,  that  he  was  op 
pressed  with  a  sense  of  hopelessness.  He  tossed 
and  turned  upon  his  pillow  for  half  the  night,  un 
able  to  sleep,  while  images,  that  he  in  vain  sought 
to  thrust  aside,  intruded  themselves  and  took  sole 
possession  of  his  mind.  The  falling  back  of  his 
helpless  brother  upon  him,  just  at  this  time,  was 
most  unfortunate.  He  felt  it  as  a  burden  that  was 
to  press  him  down,  and  keep  him  to  the  earth. 

On  the  next  day,  Frank  did  not  come  around  to 
the  office,  as  he  had  promised  to  do.  In  the  even 
ing  Peter  went  to  see  him,  and  found  him  sick. 
JJe  had  fever  and  complained  of  a  violent  pain  in 


THE  WAY  TO    PROSPER.  159 

his  back  and  head.  A  doctor  of  course  had  to  be 
called.  Peter  thought  more  of  the  additional  ex 
pense  than  of  the  illness  of  his  brother.  It  was 
three  days  before  the  character  of  the  disease  fully 
showed  itself.  Then  the  doctor  said  it  was  small 
pox.  Peter  fled  the  chamber  in  consternation,  and 
left  the  young  man  to  his  fate.  The  case  was  im 
mediately  reported  to  the  city  authorities,  who 
ordered  the  patient's  removal  to  the  hospital. 

There  was  a  secret  wish  in  the  heart  of  the  bro 
ther  that  Frank  might  never  leave  the  sick  ward, 
unless  when  carried  forth  for  burial.  But  it  proved 
not  so.  The  disease  run  its  course,  marring  his 
already  disfigured  countenance  still  more  ;  and  then 
he  came  out  again  among  his  fellow  men,  helpless 
almost  as  a  child,  both  in  body  and  mind.  Peter 
could  not  turn  wholly  away  from  his  brother.  Some 
remains  of  human  feeling  forbade  this.  For  months 
he  paid  his  board,  and  supplied  him  with  little  arti 
cles  necessary  to  his  comfort.  But,  it  was  all  felt 
as  a  serious  burden  ;  and,  such  it  really  was,  for  it 
took  from  Peter  the  very  money  he  wished  to  save 
as  the  basis  of  a  future  business. 

In  more  external  comfort  than  he  had  enjoyed 
for  a  long  time,  a  healthy  change  took  place  in  the 
system  of  Francis  Close.  Strength  came  back  to 
his  muscles ;  and,  though  one  arm  remained  para 
lyzed,  he  was  able  to  use  the  other,  and  willing  to 
work  at  anything  that  might  offer.  But,  there  are 
not  many  employments  into  which  a  man  with  only 
one  hand  can  enter.  The  difficulty,  therefore,  was 
to  get  work.  After  trying  for  some  time,  he  suc 
ceeded  in  getting  a  place  in  a  store  as  a  porter  to 


160  TH'jI   WAY   TO    FEOSPETl. 

carry  home  light  articles,  and  to  do  anything  else 
that  was  within  his  ability.  For  this  he  was  to  re 
ceive  four  dollars  a  week.  With  a  feeling  of  sincere 
pleasure  did  he  inform  Peter  of  his  good  fortune. 

"I  will  be  a  burden  on  you  no  longer,"  said  he, 
"  and  what  is  better,  will  be  able,  I  hope,  to  return 
the  money  you  have  expended  for  me,  ere  many 
months  pass  away." 

The  young  man  was  sincere  in  this.  He  had  a 
natural  independence  of  feeling,  and  the  fact  of 
having  to  lean  on  his  brother,  more  particularly  as 
the  weight  was  felt  to  be  a  burden,  troubled  him. 

Francis  Close  had  been  in  his  new  place  about  a 
month,  and  was  giving  good  satisfaction,  when,  on 
going  on  an  errand  one  day,  he  unexpectedly  met 
a  man  to  whom  he  owed  seventy  dollars.  The  debt 
had  been  contracted  in  another  city ;  and  he  was 
not  aware  that  his  creditor  was  a  resident  of  Cin 
cinnati.  The  man  was,  of  course,  very  glad  to  see 
him,  for  hope  of  getting  his  money  was  awakened 
thereby. 

"  What  are  you  doing  here  ?"  was  the  man's 
natural  inquiry. 

Frank  related,  in  the  hope  of  exciting  sympathy, 
all  he  had  suffered,  and  showed  the  crippled  state 
in  which  he  was  left.  But  the  man  thought  only  of 
his  money. 

"How  long  have  you  been  here?"  was  next 
asked. 

"Three  or  four  months." 

"  Have  you  any  friends  in  the  city  ?" 

"  I  have  a  brother  here." 

"  What  is  he  doing  ?" 


THE   WAY  TO   PROSPER.  161 

"  He's  a  printer." 

"  A  journeyman  ?" 

"  Yes." 
.    "  What  does  he  earn  a  week  ?" 

"  Eight  or  nine  dollars." 

"Well,  don't  you  think  you  can  do  something 
for  me  ?"  said  the  creditor. 

"  Not  now.  I  only  get  four  doliars  a  week,  and 
it  costs  me  three  for  boarding  and  washing." 

"  When  can  you  begin  to  pay  me  something  on 
that  old  debt  ?  Remember,  it  has  been  standing 
for  a  long  time  now." 

"  I'm  sure  I  cannot  tell.  But,  I  will  let  you 
have  money  as  quickly  as  it  is  possible  for  me  to  do 
so." 

"I  can't  wait  a  great  deal  longer,"  said  the  man, 
with  some  severity  of  tone.  "  You  deceived  me, 
at  first,  in  regard  to  your  ability  to  pay." 

"  I  certainly  did  not  mean  to  do  so." 

"  Appearances  are  Against  you ;  that's  all  I  have 
to  say  about  it." 

They  separated,  and  the  unfortunate  young  man 
was  deeply  troubled.  In  about  a  week  the  creditor 
called  at  the  place  where  he  was  employed,  and 
proposed  that  Frank  should  give  him  an  order  on 
the  store-keeper  for  a  dollar  a  week  of  his  wages. 

"  I  can't  do  that.  How  am  I  to  live  on  three 
dollars  a  week  ?"  was  the  natural  reply. 

"  That's  all  it  costs  you  for  board  and  washing, 
according  to  your  own  showing." 

"  But  I  have  other  expenses.  I  must  have  clothes 
to  wear." 


162  THE   WAY  TO   PROSPER. 


"  Then  I  am  to  understand  that  you  won't  do  it?" 

"  I  can't  do  it.  You  ask  more  than  it  is  in  my 
power  to  give.  Find  me  employment  at  increased 
wages,  and  you  shall  have  an  order,  weekly,  for  all 
above  four  dollars.  But  on  less  than  that  sum  I 
cannot  live.  If  I  go  in  rags  I  cannot  retain  my 
place." 

The  man  affected  to  be  very  indignant  at  all  this, 
and  turned  away,  saying  as  he  did  so,  that  he  would 
find  a  way  to  make  the  money  come. 

On  the  next  morning  a  warrant  was  served  upon 
Frank,  and  he  was  compelled  to  appear  before  a 
magistrate,  to  answer  for  a  debt  of  seventy  dollars. 
He  attempted  no  defence,  and,  of  course,  judgment 
went  against  him. 

"What  shall  be  done  in  the  case?"  asked  the 
magistrate,  turning  to  the  prosecutor. 

"  He  must  find  security,"  was  answered. 

"  Can  you  give  security  for  the  payment  of  this 
debt  ?"  inquired  the  legal  functionary. 

Frank  shook  his  head. 

"  His  brother  will  be  satisfactory,"  said  the  cre 
ditor. 

"  I  shall  not  ask  him,"  replied  Frank,  in  a  firm, 
indignant  voice.  "  It's  no  debt  of  his." 

"  You  can  issue  a  execution,"  said  the  prose 
cutor. 

The  execution  was  filled  out. 

"  What  will  you  take  ?"  asked  the  magistrate. 

"  His  body." 

"  Then  you  wish  a  commitment  ?" 

"  Certainly." 


THE  WAY  TO   PKOSPER.  103 

The  commitment  was  made  out,  placed  in  the 
hands  of  an  officer,  and  the  body  of  Francis  Close 
removed  to  prison. 

The  man  at  whose  instance  this  was  done,  left 
the  magistrate's  office  and  went  in  search  of  Peter 
Close.  On  finding  him,  he  said — 

"  Your  brother's  in  trouble." 

"  What's  the  matter  ?"  inquired  Peter,  with  a  look 
of  alarm. 

"  He's  in  jail." 

"In  jail!" 

Peter  leaned  heavily  on  the  case  at  which  he  was 
Standing. 

"  Yes,  and  he  wishes  to  see  you." 

"  In  jail !     Why  is  he  there  ?" 

"  For  debt." 

"  He  owes  nothing." 

"  Beg  your  pardon  !  He  owes  a  man,  who  has 
just  found  him  out,  an  old  debt  of  seventy  dollars." 

"  Contracted  here  ?" 

"  No,  in  Pittsburg." 

"  He  has  nothing.  How  does  he  expect  to  get 
it  by  putting  him  in  jail  ?" 

"  That's  his  business,"  was  rudely  answered. 
"  I  merely  come  to  tell  you.  Good  morning." 

"  Oh  dear  !"  murmured  Peter,  as  he  hastily  drew 
on  his  coat,  "  where  is  all  this  to  end  ?  I'd  better 
have  a  mill-stone  around  my  neck  at  once  !" 

On  arriving  at  the  prison,  he  found  his  brother 
in  the  debtor's  apartment,  into  which  he  was  per 
mitted  to  enter,  sitting  on  a  bench,  with  his  face 
buried  in  his  hands.  The  attitude  of  deep  dejection 
touched  his  feelings, 


164  THE   WAY   TO   PKOSPER. 

"Frank!"  he  said,  kindly. 

The  young  man  started  suddenly  to  his  feet. 

"You  here  !"  he  said.  "I  didn't  expect  to  see 
you." 

"  I  was  sent  for." 

"  Not  by  me." 

"  The  man  who  called  said  you  had  sent  for  me." 

Frank  shook  his  head  and  replied — 

"  No,  I  did  not  send  for  you,  nor  purpose,  doing 
so.  You've  had  trouble  and  expense  enough  on  my 
account  already.  I  wish  I  was  dead  ! — Go  back  to 
your  work,  and  let  me  remain  here." 

"  How  much  is  the  debt?"  asked  Peter. 

"  No  matter.  It's  more  than  I  can  pay.  I  shall 
be  as  well  here  as  any  where  else.  Go  back,  Peter, 
and  leave  me  to  my  fate." 

"  What  magistrate  committed  you?" 

"  It's  of  no  consequence  for  you  to  know.  Just 
go  back  to  your  office,  will  you  ?  He'll  get  tired 
of  keeping  me  here,  when  he  finds  that  it  will  do 
no  good." 

Peter  stood  irresolute  for  some  moments.  He 
then  retired,  and  gained  from  the  jailer  all  the  in 
formation  he  wished.  To  let  Frank  remain  in 
prison  was  not  to  be  thought  of  for  a  moment,  while 
he  could  be  released  by  his  going  security  for  the 
debt.  This  security  was  tendered  and  accepted, 
and  a  release  sent  back  to  the  prison.  In  less  than 
an  hour  from  the  time  the  iron  hinges  turned  heavily 
for  the  admission  of  the  debtor,  they  turned  again 
for  his  release — and  he  went  back  to  his  employ 
ment.  "  Of  course,  I  shall  have  it  to  pay,"  was 
the  thought  of  Peter's  mind,  as  he  returned  to  his 


THE   WAY  TO   PROSPER.  167 

work ;  and,  with  that  thought,  came  so  discouraged 
a  feeling  that  he  lost  heart  once  more.  When  he 
took  the  composing  stick  in  his  hand,  and  turned 
his  eye  upon  the  copy  before  him,  it  was  with  such 
an  entire  want  of  interest  in  his  work,  th'at,  after 
setting  a  flew  lines,  he  threw  down  his  stick,  and 
putting  on  his  hat  and  coat,  left  the  office.  After 
wandering,  unhappy  and  irresolute,  about  the  street 
for  some  time,  he  entered  a  tavern  and  called  for  a 
glass  of  brandy.  Entire  abstinence  from  intoxicat 
ing  drink  had  been  his  habit  for  some  years.  Of 
course,  the  fiery  draught  inflamed  his  old  desire, 
and  he  went  home  to  his  boarding  house  that  night 
so  badly  intoxicated,  that  he  could  scarcely  find  his 
way  to  bed. 

On  the  next  morning,  he  awoke  in  a  most  wretched 
state  of  mind.  The  more  he  reflected,  the  more 
desperate  did  he  feel.  Every  thing  seemed  to  frown 
upon  him.  From  the  thought  of  going  to  work,  his 
mind  turned  with  an  unpleasant  feeling.  It  was 
nearly  ten  o'clock,  before  he  left  his  room.  He 
then  went  to  a  tavern,  and  commenced  drinking 
again.  A  week  of  dissipation,  during  which  time 
he  squandered  about  twenty  dollars,  made  him  sick, 
and  he  was  confined  to  the  house  for  ten  days.  As 
soon  as  he  was  able  to  get  abroad  again,  without 
mentioning  his  intention  to  any  one,  or  even  seeing 
his  brother,  he  left  the  city  for  St.  Louis.  There 
he  led  an  intemperate  life  for  a  couple  of  years, 
when  he  once  more  paused^irJ'his  downward  course, 
abandoned  his  vile  habitf-f^and  associates,  and  en 
deavored  again  to  raisj^Gim'self  in  the  world  by  in 
dustry  and  prudence.*' 

14 


163  THE   WAY  TO   PROSPER. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

THE  reader  cannot  but  feel  an  interest  in  the 
excellent  Mrs.  Redmond  and  her  family.  What 
concerns  them  is  briefly  told.  Between  Anna  Red 
mond  and  Victor  Stevens,  it  was  but  natural  that  a 
feeling  beyond  that  of  mere  friendship  should  arise. 
A  tenderer  emotion  found  its  way  into  both  theii 
hearts ;  and,  but  for  a  mysterious  dispensation  of 
Providence,  which  caused  a  lovely  human  flower 
to  droop  and  die,  in  the  spring  time  of  its  beauty 
o.nd  fragrance,  they  would  have  been  joined  in  a 
holier  bond  than  ever  existed.  Long  and  sincerely 
did  Victor  mourn  the  loss  of  one  whose  image  never 
arose  in  his  mind  without  the  inspiration  of  higher 
and  better  purposes.  While  a  weary  traveller,  she 
had  been  to  him  as  a  pleasant  spring  and  a  cooling 
shadow  by  the  way-side.  Her  memory,  as  years 
passed  on,  came  to  him  as  the  memory  of  a  long 
departed  sister  ;  and  it  is  cherished  now  with  an  un 
dying  tenderness,  and  mingles  undisturbingly  with 
a  deeper  and  different  love.  William  Redmond  is 
a  merchant  in  good  business,  indebted  for  his  ad 
vancement  to  the  substantial  aid  of  his  old  and  still 
true  friends,  Victor  and  Hartley  Stevens.  Mrs. 
Redmond  has  passed  the  bourne  from  which  no 
traveller  returns.  But  she  lived  to  gather  a  sweet 
reward  for  the  genuine  kindness  she  extended  to  a 


THE  WAY  TO   PROSPER.  169 

lonely  apprentice  boy,  who  was  without  a  friend  m 
the  great  city. 

From  the  time  Thomas  Stevens  came  into  the 
business,  as  has  been  seen,  the  upward  movement 
of  the  establishment  was  more  certain  and  rapid. 
The  opening  of  a  bookstore  on  Washington  street, 
gave  the  firm  all  the  advantages  in  the  trade  that 
had  been  anticipated.  Booksellers  as  well  as  pub 
lishers,  their  business  connexions  in  Southern  cities, 
and  with  towns  throughout  the  New  England  States, 
became  wider,  and  the  avenues  for  the  sale  of  their 
own  books  more  extended.  In  these  enlarged 
operations,  there  was,  of  course,  an  increased  risk, 
and  a  necessity  for  the  coolest  judgment  and  most 
far-seeing  business  intelligence.  One  mind  had, 
therefore,  to  exercise  a  most  earnest  discrimination ; 
and  that  mind,  developed  by  circumstances  for  this 
important  use,  was  the  mind  of  Hartley,  the  second 
brother.  Victor's  mind  had  a  greater  motive  power 
than  that  of  Hartley.  It  was  quick  to  decide  upon 
a  question,  and  ardent  in  the  pursuit  of  a  purpose. 
But  Hartley  looked  deeper  into  all  the  collateral 
relations  of  a  thing,  and  never  decided  upon  a 
course  of  action  until  he  saw  clearly  the  ultimate 
effect. 

It  was  this  acknowledged  peculiarity  in  the  mind 
of  Hartley  that  caused  his  brothers  to  place  him  in 
the  responsible  position  that  he  held. — They  knew 
that  they  could  confide  in  his  judgment.  Thus, 
Hartley's  intelligence  in  business  matters  became, 
as  it  were,  the  balance-wheel  of  the  whole  concern. 
Had  Victor,  in  entering  the  world,  cared  only  for 
himself  and  sought  only  his  own  advantage,  the 

15 


170  THE  WAY  TO   PROSPER. 

chances  of  final  success  would  have  been  doubtful. 
Up  to  a  certain  point  he  would  have  gone  on  pros 
perously,  but  in  complicating  a  large  business,  he 
would  most  probably  have  committed  fatal  mistakes. 
But,  as  it  was,  the  particular  abilities  and  intelligence 
of  the  three  brothers,  fixed  upon  the  three  separate 
departments  of  one  business  for  which  the  mind  of 
each  had  a  particular  fitness,  made  all  go  on  with 
harmony  and  safety.  In  the  union  of  their  intel 
ligence,  as  well  as  their  efforts,  consisted  their 
strength.  Entering  the  world  separately,  each 
might  have  failed  of  success ;  entering  it  together, 
they  were  able  to  overcome  all  difficulties. 

Mr.  Victor  Stevens  was  sitting,  one  day,  in  the 
back  part  of  the  store,  alone,  when  a  man,  poorly 
clad,  and  with  a  slow  step,  and  rather  dejected  air, 
opened  the  door  and  entered.  Mr.  Stevens  fixed 
his  eyes  on  him  a  moment,  and  then,  not  recogniz 
ing  him,  said — 

"  Good  morning,  sir." 
"  Good  morning,"  returned  the  man. 
There  was   a  pause,  and  they  looked  at  each 
other. 

"  Do  you  want  a  journeyman  ?"  asked  the  man. 
"  The  foreman  of  the  office  will  tell  you." 
The  man  lingered  a  short  time,  looking  earnestly 
at  Mr.  Stevens.      As  he  partly  turned  away  he 
said — 

"  You  don-'t  know  me  ?" 

"  I  do  not.     And  yet  there  is  something  familiar 
in  your  face,"  replied  Mr.  Stevens,  regarding  the 
stranger  more  carefully  than  at  first. 
"  My  name  is  Peter  Close." 


THE  WAY  TO   PROSPER.  171 

"Peter  Close!  Is  it  possible!"  Mr.  Stevens 
arose  quickly,  and  extended  his  hand  to  the  old 
friend  of  his  boyhood.  Then  reaching  him  a  chair, 
he  said — "  Sit  down — sit  down.  I  am  glad  to  meet 
you  again.  Though  sorry  to  find  you  no  better  off, 
if,  indeed,  so  well,  as  when  you  started  in  the 
world." 

"  I  have  not  done  so  well  as  you,  certainly,"  re 
plied  Peter.  "  And,  I  suppose,  the  fault  lies  at  my 
own  door." 

"  Where  have  you  been  these  many  years  !" 

"In  the  South  and  West,  working  at  my  trade." 

"What  has  become  of  your  brothers,  William 
and  Frank?" 

"  They're  both  dead." 

"Dead!     Is  it  possible ?" 

"  Yes.  William  was  shot,  away  off  in  the  In 
dian  country,  last  spring  ;  so  I  heard.  Frank  died 
a  year  ago  in  the  Cincinnati  prison." 

"In  prison  ?" 

"  Yes.  Poor  fellow  !  He  was  in  jail  for  debt 
when  the  Cholera  visited  the  West,  and  was  one  of 
its  first  victims." 

"  Indeed !  How  sad !"  Mr.  Stevens  was  grieved 
at  this  intelligence. 

Just  then,  an  old  man,  walking  with  a  firm  step, 
passed  through  the  counting-room.-  Peter  looked 
at  him  earnestly.  As  he  retired  through  the  door, 
he  said — 

"  That  is  your  father  ?" 

"Yes." 

"  How  well  he  looks.  Does  he  live  here  in  the 
city  ?" 

14' 


172  THE  WAY  TO   PROSPER. 

"  No.     He  is  still  on  the  old  homestead." 

"  And  your  mother  ?" 

"  She  is  there  also." 

The  man  sighed,  and  casting  his  eyes  upon  the 
floor,  mused  .for  some  time  in  silence.  He  was 
thinking  of  his  own  home — of  his  father  and  mother, 
and  the  brothers  who  were  once  gathered  with  him 
beneath  the  humble  roof. 

"  And  I  remain,  of  all  my  kindred,  the  last  fading 
leaf  on  a  withered  bough,"  said  he,  with  visible  emo 
tion.  "  Your  brothers  are  partners  with  you  in 
this  business  ?"  he  resumed,  after  a  pause. 

"  Yes.     We  are  all  together." 

"  Mutually  sustaining  each  other?" 

"Yes." 

"  And  mine,  after  dragging  me  down  in  my  efforts 
to  rise,  and  keeping  me  at  the  foot  of  the  ladder, 
until  hope  and  energy  were  gone,  are  dead.  Ah 
me  !  What  a  contrast !  And  yet,  Victor,  when  we 
came  to  Boston  as  boys,  our  chances  were  equal.  I 
have  often  thought,  of  late  years,  about  what  you 
said  in  regard  to  brothers  helping  each  other ;  and 
especially  the  duty  of  an  elder  brother.  Had  I 
acted  towards  William  as  you  did  towards  Hartley, 
how  different  might  have  been  his  fate  !  and  how 
different  might  his  actions  have  affected  me  !  And 
poor  Frank  !  When  he  came  to  the  city,  there  was 
no  one  to  look  after  nor  care  for  him.  He  had  a 
hard  time  as  a  boy,  and  a  harder  time  still  as  a  man. 
But  he  is  at  rest  now !  Ah  !  How  painfully  these 
things  come  back  upon  me  !  Victor  Stevens  !  you 
have  your  reward  and  I  have  mine  !  But  how  dif 
ferent  are  these  rewards  !  What  a  man  soweth, 


THE  WAY  TO   PROSPER.  173 

that  shall  he  also  reap.  We  both  have  our  harvest- 
time  ;  but  what  a  difference  in  the  harvest !" 

To  this,  Mr.  Stevens  made  no  reply.  What 
could  he  say  ?  Painfully  did  the  shrinking  form 
and  bowed  head  of  the  unhappy  man  affect  him. 
But  words  of  comfort  it  was  not  in  his  power  to 
utter.  Every  man  must  reap  in  his  own  harvest 
field,  and  gather  wheat  or  tares,  according  as  he 
has  sown  good  or  bad  seed. 

"  You  will  give  me  work  ?"  said  Peter  Close, 
lifting  his  head  and  speaking  in  a  firmer  tone.  "  I 
have  walked  from  Albany  to  this  city,  and  am  now 
without  a  dollar.  All  I  ask  is  work.  I  have  come 
for  nothing  more." 

"  Oh,  yes ;  you  shall  have  work.  But  you  do  not 
look  well." 

"  I  am  not  well.  I  am  exhausted  by  long  tra 
veling  and  want  of  proper  food." 

"Then  go  and  recruit  yourself  for  a  few  days." 

And  as  Mr.  Stevens  said  this,  he  took  from  his 
pocket  book  a  twenty  dollar  bill  and  handed  it  to 
Peter,  adding — 

"  Take  this  and  supply  your  present  wants." 

But  the  man  drew  back,  murmuring — 

"  No,  no  ;  I  did  not  come  for  that.  Let  me  go 
to  work,  and  pay  me  what  I  earn,  daily,  until  I  can 
a  little  recover  myself." 

"  Take  it !"  said  Victor  Stevens,  in  the  tone  of  one 
who  felt  that  he  had  a  right  to  command.  "  I  will 
not  give  you  work  until  you  are  in  a  condition  to 
work.  There,  take  the  money !  We  will  settle  the 
account  at  another  time  !" 

Thus  urged,  Peter  Close  received  the  money,  and 


174  THE   WAY   TO   PHOSPEK. 


with,  many  thanks,  retired,  promising  to  come  back 
in  a  few  days  ;  or  as  soon  as  he  felt  able  to  go  to 
work.  In  a  week  he  re-appeared,  took  his  place  as 
a  compositor  in  the  office  of  one  who  had  been  his 
school-mate,  and  who  entered  the  world  with  pros 
pects  no  better  than  his  own. 

More  than  fifteen  years  have  passed  since  that 
strange  meeting.  Peter  Close  remains  a  simple 
type-setter  in  the  office,  earning  weekly  but  little 
more  than  he  spends.  His  habits  are  not  regular, 
and  occasionally  he  loses  time  and  spends  in  dissipa 
tion  what  little  he  may  happen  to  have  saved.  All 
these  irregularities  are  borne  with  for  the  sake  of 
early  associations. 

As  for  the  brothers,  they  continued  to  increase  in 
wealth,  and  to  command  the  respect  and  esteem  of 
their  fellow  citizens.  A  few  years  ago,  the  oldest 
brother  retired  with  a  large  fortune,  to  give  place 
to  two  of  the  sons  of  Hartley  Stevens,  who  are  now 
members  of  the  firm. 

And  here  we  bring  our  unadorned  history  to  a 
close.  The  lesson  it  teaches  is  one  of  vast  import 
ance  to  those  who  are  just  entering  upon  life — to 
the  youth  of  our  great  and  happy  country — to 
parents  who  would  see  their  children  united  and 
prosperous.  "In  union  there  is  strength."  Let  this 
truth  be  taught  in  every  family.  Let  children  learn 
it  from  their  cradles.  Let  parents  teach  it  to  them 
as  one  of  the  best  and  highest  precepts  appertaining 
to  natural  life.  If  there  is  family  concord — bro 
therly  union — reciprocal  regard  and  interest ;  the 
way  of  entrance  into  life  will  be  far  less  difficult 
than  it  is  found  by  many.  Not  all  in  the  same 


THE  WAY  TO   PR.OSPEK.  175 

family  are,  by  nature,  fitted  for  a  hard  strife  with 
fortune ;  yet  each  has  some  peculiar  ability,  and,  if 
united  in  entering  the  world,  can  usually  s;>  work 
together,  sustain,  encourage  and  help  each  other, 
atf  to  secure  the  well-being  of  all. 


WHERE  THERE'S  A  WILL.  THERE'S  A  WAY. 


"JAMES,"  said  a  master  workman  to  a  young 
man,  a  journeyman  in  his  shop,  "business  has  be 
come  so  dull  that  I  must  reduce  the  number  of  my 
men.  As  you  came  in  last,  you  will  have  to  go 
among  the  first.  I  am  sorry  for  this,  but  cannot 
help  it.  To  continue  my  present  force  would  be  to 
ruin  me." 

James  Harker,  that  was  the  journeyman's  name, 
looked  surprised  and  pained  for  a  moment  or  two. 
But  he  had  a  confident  spirit  within  him,  and  soon 
recovered  his  self-control. 

"I  am  sorry,  too,"  he  replied.  "But  I  know 
business  is  very  bad,  and  that  you  are  perfectly 
right  in  reducing  your  expenses.  I  shall  get  along 
somehow,  no  doubt." 

"  Yes,  James,  I  have  no  doubt  of  that.  Where 
there  is  a  will  there  is  a  way." 

"  The  truth  of  that  saying  I  have  proved  more 
than  once  in  my  life,"  the  young  man  returned. 
"And  I  shall  prove  it  again." 

"I  am  sure  of  that,"  the  master  workman  said. 
"  Such  a  spirit  as  your's  always  makes  success." 

At  the  end  of  the  week,  Harker,  with  three  other 
journeymen,  received  their  wages,  and  were  dis 
charged.  Among  these,  Harker  was  the  only  mar- 

(177) 


178  WHERE  THERE'S  A  WILL, 

ried  man.  He  had  three  children.  One  of  the 
journeymen  thrown  out  of  work,  was  named  Wilson. 
He  lived  near  Harker,  and  the  two  walked  home 
ward  together.  Wilson  was  a  young  man  of  good 
mind,  some  education,  and  excellent  moral  charac 
ter.  He  had  a  widowed  mother  with  whom  he 
lived,  and  towards  whose  support  he  contributed  as 
much  as  was  needful.  In  doing  this,  he  was  taxed 
but  lightly ;  for  old  Mrs.  Wilson  had  an  independent 
mind,  and  was  habitually  industrious.  She  always 
would  be  doing  something. 

4 'This  is  rather  a  bad  business,  Wilson,"  James 
Harker  said,  as  the  two  left  the  shop,  each  with  a 
week's  wages  in  his  pocket.  He  did  not  speak  in  a 
desponding,  but,  rather,  in  a  cheerful  voice. 

"I  don't  see  what  we  are  to  do,"  was  gloomily 
replied.  "  There's  no  work  to  be  had  in  the  city, 
and  won't  be  for  months  to  come." 

"I  shouldn't  like  to  say  that.  There  must  be 
work  somewhere." 

"If  there  is,  I,  for  one,  would  like  very  much  to 
find  it." 

"If  there  is,  I,  for  one,  will  find  it,"  Harker  said 
confidently. 

"  You  can  try,  if  you  choose;  but  you'll  have  all 
your  trouble  for  nothing." 

•'  We  will  see.  I  have  never  given  up  yet,  and 
never  intend  giving  up  while  there  is  any  thing  left 
of  me.  It  is  the  worst  thing  in  the  world  to  des 
pond.  Despondency  is  almost  sure  to  produce 
failure,  while  confidence  guarantees  success.  Where 
there  is  a  will  there  is  a  way,  that  is  my  motto.  It 
has  helped  me  through  narrower  places--than  this." 


THERE'S  A  WAT.  179 

"  It  has  never  helped  me,  then ;  and  I'm  sure  I 
have  a  good  enough  will." 

"Perhaps  it  is  a  passive  and  not  an  active  will. 
It  may  be  that  you  call  upon  Jupiter  without  putting 
your  shoulder  to  the  wheel." 

"You  may  think  so,  but  I  don't,"  was  returned  a 
little  impatiently. 

Harker  seeing  that  his  fellow  workman  wouldn't 
bear  plain  talk,  said  no  more  on  the  subject.  On 
returning  home,  James  saw  that  the  face  of  his 
wife  was  troubled.  She  looked  at  him  earnestly, 
while  the  tears  stood  in  her  eyes :  but  she  said 
nothing.  His  countenance  wore  its  usual  cheerful 
air.  This  was,  in  part,  assumed,  to  strengthen  the 
heart  of  his  wife,  who  was  more  inclined  than  him 
self  to  look  at  the  dark  side  of  things.  After  the 
children  were  all  in  bed,  and  his  wife  had  taken  her 
seat  by  a  little  work-table,  with  her  sewing  in  her 
hand,  James  said  to  her : 

"Don't  look  so  troubled,  Lucy.  All  will  come 
out  right  in  the  end.  I  shall  get  work  somewhere." 

"  I  don't  know,  James.  Times,  you  have  said  all 
a  long,  are  very  dull.  I'm  afraid  you  will  lie  out  of 
work  all  summer.  And  if  that  should  happen,  I 
don't  know  what  we  shall  do.  Mr.  Ekhart  hasn't 
had  a  stroke  of  work  these  four  months,  and  can't 
get  it  any  where.  His  family  is  in  a  distressed 
condition." 

"  Ekhart  don't  try  to  get  work  as  he  ought  to  try. 
He's  above  doing  many  things  that  he  might  do. 
I  know  all  abou^  him." 

"  His  family  is  greatly  in  want  of  every  thing." 

"And  he  is  walking  about  like  a  gentleman. 
15 


180  WHERE   THEHE  S   A  WILL, 


Don't  think,  for  an  instant,  Lucy,  that  I  will  ever 
see  you  and  the  children  want,  while  I  have  health 
and  strength.  If  I  can't  get  work  at  my  trade,  I 
can  get  it  at  something  else.  Work  I  will.  If  I 
can't  make  ten  dollars  a  week,  I  \vill  make  five. 
Half  a  loaf  is  better  than  no  bread.  Not  so  Ek- 
hart.  He  must  have  just  such  kind  of  work,  and 
just  such  prices.  He  can't  do  this,  that,  nor  the 
other/' 

"But  where  is  work  to  be  had?  There  are  a 
large  number  of  persons  idle." 

"Where  there  is  a  will  there  is  a  way,  Lucy. 
That  is  my  sheet  anchor." 

"Suppose  every  body  had  this  will ?" 

"Then  for  every  body  there  would  be  a  way. 
Not,  of  course,  exactly  the  way  most  agreeable  to 
every  body ;  but,  still,  a  way  in  which  service  might 
be  rendered  to  others,  and  an  equivalent  for  that 
service  obtained." 

The  confident  tone  of  her  husband  encouraged 
Lucy.  The  feeling  of  despondency  that  had  weighed 
upon  her  spirits  for  many  hours,  gradually  passed 
off.  This  was  succeeded  by  a  more  cheerful  state 
of  mind. 

Early  on  Monday  morning  Harker  started  out 
to  put  his  first  resolution  into  practice,  which  was 
to  visit  every  establishment  in  New  York,  carrying 
on  the  branch  of  business  at  which  he  worked.  As 
he  had  not  calculated  on  getting  work  at  the  first, 
second,  or  third  application,  he  was  not  discouraged 
even  when  dinner  time  found  him  unsuccessful.  To 
his  wife's  anxious  questions  he  replied  cheerfully. 
After  dinner  he  went  out  again. 


THERE'S  A  WAT.  181 

"How  is  business?"  he  asked,  for  the  fiftieth 
time,  as  he  entered  a  shop  near  the  close  of  the 
day. 

"Dull  enough,"  was  the  reply. 

"Don't  you  think  you  could  make  room  for  a 
hand  ?" 

Before  a  reply  to  this  could  be  made,  >a  man 
entered  the  shop,  and  asked  if  a  certain  number  of 
articles,  such  as  were  manufactured -there,  could  be 
delivered  to  him  in  ten  days.  The  master  workman 
agreed  to  furnish  what  was  wanted  in  the  stipulated 
time,  and  at  once  engaged  the  services  of  James 
Harker  to  enable  him  to  fulfill  his  contract. 

As  Harker  was  returning  home  towards  nightfall 
he  met  Wilson. 

"Have  you  found  any  work  yet?"  asked  the 
former. 

"I  havn't  tried.  It's  no  use.  The  business  is 
killed  up.  I  may  look  about  a  little  during  the 
week.  But  I  don't  expect  any  good  to  come  from  it." 

"Nor  will  any  good  come  from  it,  I  am  myself 
inclined  to  think.  Efforts  made  in  such  a  spirit  are 
rarely  successful.  I  started  out  this  morning  con 
fident  that  some  good  would  come  of  my  efforts. 
And  I  am  pleased  to  say  that  I  have  not  been  dis- 
appo'nted.  After  going  from  shop  to  shop,  until  I 
had  gone  nearly  over  the  whole  city,  I  at  last  hit 
the  very  moment  when  a  dealer  was  making  a  large 
and  hurried  order,  and  obtained  work  for  ten  days." 

"  Ten  days  !  What  is  that  ?" 

"It  is  ten  days'  work.  Which  is  much  better 
than  ten  days  lost.  Something  favorable  will  turn 
up  after  that," 

16 


182  WHERE  THERE'S  A  WILL, 

"Maybe  so.  But  you'll  find,  in  the  end,  that 
you  are  too  sanguine." 

"Think  so?" 

"Yes,  I  do." 

"  We'll  see." 

"Good  day!"  And  Wilson  passed  on,  feeling 
chagrined  at  Barker's  good  fortune,  which  was  a 
rebuke  of  his  own  want  of  confidence  and  activity. 

The  cheerful  smile  that  lit  up  the  face  of  Lucy, 
when  Harker  mentioned  his  success,  more  than 
repaid  him  doubly  for  the  efforts  of  the  day. 

The  job  lasted  for  the  time  specified.  By  work 
ing  early  and  late,  he  was  able  to  make  just  twenty 
dollars  in  ten  days. 

"  Well,  are  you  through  with  your  job,  yet  ?'J 
asked  Wilson,  meeting  him  the  day  after  he  had 
finished. 

"Yes,  I  got  through  yesterday." 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  now  ?" 

"  I'm  going  to  try  for  work  somewhere  else.'"' 

"Do  you  think  you  will  get  it?" 

"I  do.     Something  will  offer  I  am  sure." 

"  You'll  be  a  luckier  dog  than  are  some  ten  or  a 
dozen  I  know,  if  it  does.  I've  been  trying  ever 

since  we  quit  work  at  L 's,  but  it's   no  use. 

Not  a  hand's  turn  can  I  find  to  do.  I  went  this 
morning  to  two  shops,  but  no  journeymen  vrere 
wanted." 

"Where  there's  a  will  there's  a  way,"  Harker 
said  to  himself,  as  he  walked  slowly  and  thought 
fully  along,  after  parting  with  Wilson.  "  He's  not 
earnest  enough  about  it.  Two  shops  this  morning! 
Why,  I've  been  to  ten,  and  was  only  too  late  by  a 


THERE'S  A  WAY.  183 


quarter  of  an  hour  at  one  of  them  to  secure  a  per-' 
tranent  situation.  He's  got  a  mother  to  fall  back 
upon ;  while  I've  got  a  wife  and  children  to  fall 
back  upon  me.  That  makes  a  wonderful  difference..' 

Wilson,  on  parting  with  Harker,  returned  home. 

"  It's  no  use  trying,"  he  said.  "I  don't  believe 
I  shall  get  anything  to  do  for  months  to  come.  I 
called  at  two  or  three  shops  this  morning :  every 
thing  is  perfectly  flat.  I  know  at  least  a  dozen 
journeymen  with  families  to  support,  who  have  not 
had  a  stroke  of  work  for  weeks." 

The  mother  spoke  words  of  encouragement  to 
her  son.  Told  him  not  to  let  his  mind  be  disturbed. 
That  she  could  easily  keep  up  the  family  for  six 
months  to  come,  when  work  would  be  brisk  again. 

Assurances  of  this  kind  tended  to  make  Wilson 
less  anxious  about  employment,  and,  of  course, 
less  likely  to  secure  it.  It  was  not  pleasant  to  his 
feelings,  to  be  going  from  shop  to  shop,  seeking 
work,  and  so  he  quit  doing  so.  Many  hours  were 
spent  in  reading,  but  many  more  in  wandering 
aimlessly  about,  waiting  until  business  should  re 
vive. 

"  It's  dreadful  dull,"  was  his  oft  repeated  remark, 
to  fellow  workmen,  who,  like  himself,  could  find 
nothing  better  to  do  than  walking  about  the  streets. 
Occasionally  he  would  fall  in  with  Harker,  who, 
somehow  or  other  managed  never  to  be  idle  over  a 
day  or  two  at  a  time.  He  kept  always  in  the  way 
of  employment,  because  he  was  anxious  to  obtain  it, 
and  in  consequence,  picked  up  many  little  jobs  that 
would  otherwise  have  been  missed. 

"I  don't  know  how  it  is"  Wilson  would  some- 


184  WHERE   THERE  S   A  WILL, 

times  say  .to  him,  "  that  you  manage  always  to  keep 
at  something.  I  can't  meet  with  any  thing  to  do. 
And  I'm  sure  I  am  as  willing  to  work  as  you  are." 

"  You  don't  keep  all  the  while  trying,  as  I  do,  I 
suppose.'  These  are  times  when  work  has  to  be 
looked  up.  It  doesn't  come  after  people  as  it  did  a 
year  ago." 

Wilson  didn't  relish  plain  talk  like  this,  because 
it  reflected  upon  him  unfavorably.  He  evidenced 
his  true  feelings  in  his  reply,  that  was  not  spoken 
in  a  calm,  mild  tone.  The  effect,  however,  was  to 
cause  him  to  go  among  the  shops  on  the  next  day, 
when  he  was  fortunate  enough  to  secure  a  job  that 
lasted  a  few  weeks. 

"  Nothing  like  trying,"  remarked  Harker  to  him 
sententiously,  the  next  time  they  met.  "  It  pos 
sesses  a  wonderful  virtue." 

But,  even  with  trying,  Harker  found,  after  a 
while,  that  he  could  not  get  enough  to  do  to  meet 
the  wants  of  his  family.  Times  seemed  to  grow 
harder.  His  mind,  constantly  active,  and  con 
stantly  seeking  after  the  means  for  earning  money, 
devised  many  schemes,  and  was  aided  by  many 
suggestions  awakened  therein,  that  would  never 
have  presented  themselves,  had  not  his  will  been 
constantly  stimulating  his  thoughts.  The  result  of 
almost  every  day,  was,  to  him,  an  illustration  of  his 
favorite  adage — where  there  is  a  will  there  is  a  way. 
He  knew  that  the  will  was  creative,  and  made  to 
itself  the  means  for  gaining  its  ends.  It  was  tho 
consciousness  of  this,  that  gave  him  courage  to  hope 
even  in  the  hour  of  deepest  darkness. 

Some  time  had  elapsed  since  he  was  thrown  out 


THERE'S  A  WAY.  185 


of  regular  employment,  and  even  he  had  been  made 
to  fear  often  amid  his  hard  struggles.  At  length, 
try  as  he  would,  he  could  find  nothing  to  do. 

One  morning,  after  having  been  idle  for  a  week, 
he  found  himself  with  only  a  single  dollar  left,  and 
no  kind  of  prospect  in  regard  to  work.  For  the 
first  time  he  could  not  relish  his  food.  For  the  first 
time  his  confidence  forsook  him,  and,  instead  of 
cheerful  words  for  the  ear  of  his  wife,  he  was  silent, 
«  depressed  and  thoughtful.  To  see  her  husband, 
always  before,  in  every  trying  situation,  so -assured 
and  cheerful,  thus  distressed  about  their  prospects, 
at  once  dashed  the  spirit  of  Lucy  to  the  earth. 
When  she  did  venture  to  speak  in  her  husband's 
presence,  her  voice  was  tremulous, — when  she  looked 
him  in  the  face,  he  could  see  that  her  eyes  were 
just  ready  to  run  over  with  tears.  He  could  not 
bear  this.  It  caused  him  the  most  poignant  afflic 
tion  of  mind.  Early  after  the  scarcely  tasted 
morning  meal,  he  went  out  with  a  kind  of  desperate 
determination  to  get  something  to  do  at  all  hazards. 

"There  is,  there  must  be  work  for  him  that  is 
willing  to  do  it,  somewhere,"  he  said,  half-aloud,  as 
he  strode  away  from  his  door. 

He  had  not  gone  far  when  he  met  his  old  fellow 
workman,  Wilson.  The  latter  looked  quite  con 
tented.  Since  his  last  job,  he  had  made  a  few 
feeble  efforts  to  get  something  to  do,  but  failing  of 
success,  was  now  contented  to  eat  his  bread  quietly, 
and  wait  patiently  until  times  grew  better.  The 
statement  from  every  one  he  met,  that  business  was 
worse  than  ever,  and  that  it  was  no  use  to  look  for 
work,  satisfied  hia  naiad. 


186  WHERE  THERE'S  A  WILL, 

"Ah,  go)d  morning,  Harker,"  he  said,  with 
something  of  triumph  in  his  voice  —  "even  your 
will  can't  always  find  a  way,  it  seems.  So  you  are 
idle  still  ?" 

"  Yes.  I  have  not  been  able  to  get  any  thing  to 
do  for  a  week." 

"And  won't  for  a  week  to  come — perhaps  a 
year." 

"I'll  get  something  to  do  before  this  day  is  over," 
was  the  half  desperate  reply. 

"  At  street  sweeping,  then.'/ 

"Very  well.  Let  it  be  street  sweeping,  or  any 
other  honest  calling  that  I  can  find.  Work  I  must 
and  will  have." 

"  I  want  work  as  much  as  any  one,  but  I  am  not 
quite  prepared  for  street  sweeping,  sawing  wood,  or 
turning  carman." 

"  If  you  had  a  wife  and  three  or  four  children  to 
care  for,  you  might  be  thankful  for  the  chance  of 
turning  a  penny  in  either  of  the  occupations  you 
have  named." 

"But  I  havn't,  thank  fortune  !" 

"  I  have,  then ;  and  I  am  willing  to  work  at  any 
honest  calling." 

By  this  time  the  friends,  who  had  been  walking 
down  Washington  street,  had  nearly  reached  the 
Battery.  Harker  paused  at  the  corner  of  a  street, 
and  said  that  he  was  going  to  cross  to  the  other  side 
of  Broadway,  and  look  about  among  the  stores  in 
Pearl  and  other  business  streets,  to  see  if  he  couldn't 
get  work  as  a  laborer,  or  light  porter. 

"  You  are  not  in  earnest,  surely  ?"  Wilson  said, 
"  A  laborer,  or  porter !' 


THERE'S  A  WAY.  187 


"I  am  in  earnest,"  Harker  replied.  "Why not? 
Will  it  not  be  much  better  for  me  to  work  in  a  ware 
house,  or  carry  small  parcels,  or  do  the  errands  in  a 
store,  than  to  sit  down,  or  walk  idly  about,  while  my 
family  is  suffering?  I  think  so." 

"  Come  walk  down  upon  the  Battery,  with  me,  at 
any  rate.  Perhaps  something  will  offer  there.  Who 
knows  but  that  you  may  find  small  boating  worth 
the  trial.  There  are  one  American  and  two  foreign 
ships  of  war  lying  off  in  the  stream." 

This  was  said  lightly,  but  it  made  the  heart  of 
James  Harker  bound.  The  suggestion  he  saw,  at 
a  glance,  was  a  good  one.  He  did  not  hesitate  a 
moment,  but  walked  with  a  quickened  pace  to  the 
Battery,  and  down  towards  Castle  Garden.  Several 
small  boats  were  there,  in  each  of  which  was  an 
active  oarsman. 

"What  will  you  charge  to  take  me  off  to  the 
Constellation  ?"  a  man,  with  a  lady  on  his  arm, 
asked  of  a  boatman,  just  as  Harker  and  his  friend 
came  up. 

"Two  shillings  a  piece  to  go,  and  the  same  to 
return,"  was  the  reply, 

"  That  is  a  dollar  to  take  us  there  and  back 
again  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir." 

The  gentleman  and  lady  entered  the  boat  and 
were  rowed  off. 

"Just  the  thing  !"  ejaculated  Harker,  as  the  boat 
bounded  away.  "  Thank  you  a  hundred  times  for 
your  suggestion  Wilson." 

"But  you  are  not  in  earnest?" 


188  WHERE  THERE'S  A  WILL, 

''lam."  His  brightening  face  spoke  more  un 
equivocally  than  his  words. 

"Nonsense!     But  where  will  you  get  a  boat?" 

"Hireene." 

"You  can't." 

"  I  can  try.  Where  there's  a  will,  there's  a 
way."  And  so  saying,  Harker  turned  away,  and 
took  a  direct  course  to  the  lower  end  of  the  Battery, 
where  he  soon  succeeded  in  getting  a  boat  from  a 
man  with  whom  he  was  acquainted.  In  this  he 
rowed  around  to  Castle  Garden.  Wilson,  curious  to 
see  where  all  this  would  end,  had  remained  standing 
by  the  railing  of  the  Battery.  He  could  hardly  be 
lieve  his  own  eyes,  when  he  saw  Harker  come  row 
ing  up,  close  under  where  he  stood,  and  ask,  jocosely, 
if  he  did  not  wish  to  go  out  to  the  Constellation. 
But  a  word  or  two  had  passed  between  them,  when 
half  a  dozen  men  came  up  and  asked  if  he  would 
take  them  out  to  a  French  brig  that  lay  off  in  the 
harbor,  and  return  with  them  in  an  hour.  A  bargain 
was  at  once  made  with  them,  they  agreed  to  pay 
him  two  dollars  for  the  job,  or  a  little  over  two 
shillings  apiece. 

"Where  there's  a  will  there's  a  way,  Wilson," 
Harker  cried  out  to  his  friend,  in  a  confident  voice, 
as  he  pulled  off  with  his  freight  from  the  shore. 

"  I  wouldn't  do  that  for  any  one,"  muttered  Wil 
son,  in  a  dissatisfied  tone,  as  he  turned  away  and 
left  the  Battery. 

At  dinner  time,  Harker  did  not  come  home.  A 
frugal  meal  had  been  prepared  by  his  wife  at  the 
regular  hour,  but  he  did  not  return  as  usual.  This 
made  her  feel  uneasy.  She  could  not  remember 


THERE'S  A  WAT.  189 


when  he  had  been  away  so  long  before.  All  the 
afternoon  she  waited  for  him,  expecting  him  to  come 
in  every  minute,  but  she  waited  in  vain.  Many 
thoughts  troubled  her.  She  had  permitted  herself 
to  become  gloomy  and  desponding  while  she  had  her 
husband  to  depend  upon.  Suppose  any  accident 
should  have  happened  to  him  !  Suppose  he  were 
dead! 

This  thought  startled  her  so  that  she  rose  up  from 
the  chair  she  had  drawn  close  to  the  window,  in 
order  to  see  her  work  more  distinctly  in  the  deepen 
ing  twilight.  At  this  moment  the  door  opened,  and 
her  husband  entered. 

"  0,  James  !  where  have  you  been  all  day  ?"  she 
asked,  eagerly. 

"Hard  at  work,  Lucy,  and  here  are  my  net 
gains,"  holding  out  in  his  hand  seven  hard  dollars. 
"I  hired  a  boat  for  a  dollar,  and  have  made  eight 
dollars  by  rowing  people  out  to  the  ships  of  war  in 
the  harbor.  I've  been  hard  at  work  all  day,  and 
now  feel  as  happy  as  a  young  kitten,  and  as  hungry 
as  a  bear." 

Six  months  from  that  day,  Harker,  who  con 
tinued  "small  boating,"  owned  three  boats,  one  of 
which  he  daily  plied  himself  between  the  shore  and 
the  shipping,  and  the  others  he  hired  out.  He  had 
three  hundred  dollars  in  the  Savings'  Bank,  and  was 
as  happy,  to  use  his  own  words,  as  the  day  was  long. 
As  for  Wilson,  he  walked  about  for  nearly  the  whole 
of  that  time,  doing  nothing  to  benefit  others,  and 
living  a  burden  to  himself.  Harker  had  several 
times  tried  to  induce  him  to  take  a  boat  and  try  his 
luck,  but  the  proposition  always  made  him  half 


190  WHERE  THERE'S  A  WILL,  ETC. 

angry.  To  his  false  pride  there  -was  something  de 
grading  in  the  occupation.  He  did  not  reflect  that 
idleness,  or  dependence  upon  others,  was  more  really- 
degrading  than  any  occupation  that  was  strictly 
honest.  He  had  not  studied  to  purpose  that  noble 
couplet  of  Pope's — 

"  Honor  and  shame  from  no  condition  rise, 
Act  well  your  part — there  all  the  honor  lies." 

Instead  of  looking  at  his  duty — instead  of  only  ask 
ing  "Is  this  right?" — he  let  himself  be  governed  by 
what  he  supposed  people  would  think  or  say  of  him. 
Alas !  that  there  should  be  so  many  in  the  world 
like  Wilson. — Men,  from  whose  intelligence,  and 
professed  independence  of  character,  more,  much 
more  ought  to  be  expected. 

When  trade  again  revived,  James  Harker  sold 
off  his  boats,  took  his  money  out  of  the  Savings' 
Bank,  and  set  up  for  himself.  He  is  now  doing  a 
good  business ;  lives  in  a  large,  comfortable  house, 
and,  it  is  hardly  necessary  to  say,  is  esteemed  and 
respected  by  all  who  know  him.  Six  years  have 
passed  since  he  and  Wilson  parted  on  the  Battery — 
one  to  row  a  party  of  men  to  a  ship  lying  in  the 
harbor,  and  the  other  to  saunter  listlessly  about  the 
streets.  Harker  is  worth  some  ten  thousand  dollars, 
and  Wilson  is  one  of  his  journeymen. 

Where  there's  a  will)there's  a  way. 


DON'T  BE    DISCOURAGED. 


*  DON'T  be  discouraged,  my  young  friend!"  said 
an  elderly  man  to  his  companion,  whose  youthful 
appearance  indicated  that  few  more  than  twenty 
years  had  passed  over  his  head. 

"But  I  am  discouraged,  Mr.  Linton.  Havn't  I 
been  disappointed  in  every  thing  that  I  have  yet 
undertaken?  Success  is  a  word,  the  meaning  of 
which  I  shall  never  realize." 

"You  are  young,  Henry." 

"  Quite  old  enough  to  have  proved,  beyond  a  doubt, 
that,  try  as  I  will,  I  shall  never  rise  in  the  world. 
I  am  doomed  to  struggle  on,  like  a  swimmer  against 
a  strong  current.  Instead  of  advancing  at  all,  I 
shall  be  gradually  borne  down  the  stream." 

"  If  you  cease  to  struggle,  you  will,  un question- 
ably." 

"And  will,  whether  I  struggle  or  not." 

"No:  that  cannot  be.  Vigorous,  and  long  con 
tinued  effort  will  gradually  strengthen  and  mature 
your  thoughts.  Hough  contact  with  the  world,  in 
which  you  are  made  to  suffer  keenly,  will  bring  out 
the  latent  energies  of  your  mind.  Bear  on  manfully 
for  a  few  years — falter  not,  though  every  thing  look 
dark,  and  success  will  as  certainly  crown  your  efforts^ 
as  an  effect  follows  its  producing  cause." 

16  (191) 


* 

192  DOX'T   BE    DISCOURAGED. 


"I  wish  I  could  think  so,"  the  young  man  replied, 
shaking  his  head  despondingly.  "  But  I  am  fully 
convinced,  that  for  me,  at  least,  the  door  of  success 
is  closed." 

"  How  old  are  you,  Henry?" 

"  Just  twenty-seven." 

"And  have  you  already  failed  in  three  business 
efforts?" 

"Yes,  and  what  is  worse,  have  become  involved 
in  debt." 

"But  you  mean  to  pay  all  you  owe,  if  it  is  ever 
in  your  power?" 

"  Can  you  doubt  that  for  a  moment,  Mr.  Linton?" 
the  young  man  said,  in  a  quick  tone,  while  a  flush 
passed  over  his  face.  "  I  will  pay  it  all,  if  I  die  in 
the  struggle." 

"And  yet  you  were  just  now  talking  about  giving 
up  in  despair?" 

True.  And  I  do  feel  utterly  discouraged.  For 
the  last  five  years  no  man  has  labored  more  earnestly 
than  I  have  done.  Early  and  late  have  I  been  at 
my  business,  sometimes  even  until  midnight,  and  yet 
all  has  been  in  vain.  Like  a  man  in  a  quagmire — 
every  struggle  to  extricate  myself  from  difficulties, 
has  only  had  the  effect  to  sink  me  deeper.  And  now, 
with  honest  intentions  towards  all  men,  I  am  looked 
upon  by  many  as  little  better  than  a  swindler." 

"  You  are  wrong,  in  regard  to  that,  Henry.  Such 
is  not  the  estimation  in  which  you  are  held." 

"  Yes,  but  it  is.  I  have  been  told  to  my  teeth 
that  I  was  not  an  honest  man." 

"By  whom?" 

"By  one  of  my  creditors." 


DON'T  BE   DISCOURAGED.  193 

"That  is  the  solitary  case  of  a  man  whose  inor 
dinate  love  of  self,  showing  itself  in  a  love  of  money, 
has  made  him  forget  the  first  principles  of  the  law 
of  human  kindness." 

"No  matter  what  prompted  the  unkind  remark, 
its  effect  is  none  the  less  painful,  especially  as  he 
fully  believed  what  he  said." 

"You  cannot  tell,  Henry,  whether  he  fully  be- 
'ieved  it  or  not.  But  suppose  that  his  words  did 
but  express  his  real  thought — what  then  ?  Does 
his  opinion  make  you  different  from  what  you  really 


are 


"  Of  course  not.  But  it  is  very  painful  to  have 
such  things  said." 

"No  doubt  of  it.  But  conscious  integrity  of  pur 
pose  should  be  sufficient  to  sustain  any  man." 

"  It  might  in  my  case,  if  I  were  not  thoroughly 
crushed  down.  My  mind  is  like  an  inflamed  body 
— the  lighest  touch  is  felt  far  more  sensibly  than 
would  be  a  heavy  blow  if  all  were  healthy.  You 
understand  me?" 

"Perfectly,  and  I  can  feel  for  you.  But  knowing 
that  the  state  of  mind  in  which  you  are  is,  as  you 
intimate,  an  unhealthy  one,  I  cannot  agree  with 
you  in  your  discouraging  conclusions." 

"  But  what  can  I  do  ?  Have  I  not  failed  in  three 
earnest,  and  well  directed  efforts  to  advance  myself 
in  the  world?" 

"Try  again,  Henry." 

"  And  come  out  worse  than  before." 

"No — no — that  need  not  follow.  Try  in  a  better 
way." 

"Do  you  mean  to  intimate  that  I  have  not  con- 

17 


194  DON'T  BE 


DISCOUEAGED. 


ducted  my  business  in  a  proper  manner?"  asked  the 
young  man,  in  a  quick  voice,  his  cheek  instantly 
glowing. 

"I  do  not  mean  to  intimate,"  returned  Mr.  Lin- 
ton  calmly,  "  that  you  committed  any  wilful  wrong 
in  your  business.  And  yet,  I  suppose  you  will  not 
yourself  deny  the  position,  that  there  was  some 
thing  wrong  about  it,  or  success  would  have  met 
your  earnest  efforts,  instead  of  failure." 

"  I  don't  know,"  was  the  gloomy  response.  "  The 
Fates,  I  believe,  are  against  me." 

"What  do  you  mean  by  the  Fates?" 

The  young  man  made  no  reply,  and  his  monitor 
resumed  in  a  still  more  serious  tone — 

"You  can  only  mean,  of  course,  that  Divine 
Being,  who  is  the  author  of  our  existence,  and  the 
controller  of  our  destinies.  That  Being,  who  is  es 
sential  love  and  wisdom,  and  whose  acts  towards  us 
can  only  flow  from  a  pure  regard  for  the  good  of 
his  creatures.  And  if  such  regard  be  directed  by 
wisdom  that  cannot  err,  can  any  act  of  his  towards 
you  be  evil  ?" 

"I  try  to  think  in  that  way — and  try  often,"  re 
turned  the  young  man,  in  a  softened  tone.  "  But  it 
is  hard,  very  hard  to  believe  that  a  Being  of  infi 
nite  goodness  would  so  hedge  up  the  path  of  any 
one  as  mine  has  been  hedged  up — would  so  mock 
with  vain  hopes  the  heart  of  any  one  as  mine  has 
been  mocked." 

"Your  mind  is  not  now  in  a  state  to  think  calmly 
and  rationally  upon  this  subject,  Henry,"  Mr.  Lin- 
ton  said ;  "  but  the  time  will  come,  when  you  will 
see  in  this  state  of  severe  trial  a  dispensation  of 


DON'T  BE  DISCOURAGED.  195 

mercy.  It  will  then  be  perceived,  that  all  this  was 
for  the  purpose  of  giving  you  juster  views  of  life,  and 
confirming  you  in  higher  ends  than  any  that  you 
have  heretofore  acted  upon.  For  the  present,  I  will 
only  repeat — Don't  be  discouraged !  Try  again  ! 
Put  your  shoulder  once  more  to  the  wheel.  Depend 
upon  it,  your  time  will  come;  but  not  until  you  can 
bear  success  in  a  right  spirit.  And  to  have  success 
before  you  are  thus  prepared  to  bear  it,  would  be 
the  worst  injury  that  could  befall  you." 

Henry  Grant,  the  young  man  here  introduced  to 
the  reader's  notice,  had,  at  the  age  of  twenty-one, 
done  the  very  imprudent  thing  of  entering  into 
business  for  himself.  True,  from  the  age  of  seven 
teen  he  had  been  in  the  store  of  a  merchant,  who 
had  carried  on  a  very  extensive  trade,  and  had, 
moreover,  acquired  so  thorough  a  knowledge  of 
business,  that  the  most  important  subordinate  posi 
tion  in  the  house  had  been  assigned  to  him.  But 
this  confidence  reposed  in  him,  and  this  familiarity 
with  the  business  in  which  he  was  engaged,  deceived 
him.  He  saw  that  heavy  profits  were  accruing  every 
year.  That  while  he  was  toiling  on  through  the 
long  months  of  an  annual  cycle  of  a  single  thousand 
dollars,  tens  of  thousands  were  added  to  the  coffers 
of  his  already  wealthy  employer. 

"  Why  should  I  waste  the  best  years  of  my  life 
in  making  money  for  others?"  he  asked  himself,  the 
day  after  he  had  attained  his  majority. 

This  thought  was  the  germ  of  discontent  in  his 
mind.  It  was  nourished,  and  grew  into  a  tree, 
whose  thick  leaves  so  overshaodwed  his  mind,  that 

16* 


196  DON'T  BE  DISCOUKAGED. 

he  could  not  see  the  clear  sky  of  sober  truth  above, 
in  which  shone  stars  whose  light  beamed  forth  to 
guide  him.  He  became  eager  for  wealth,  that  he 
might  have  selfish  enjoyments.  Every  beautiful 
dwelling,  the  reward  of,  perhaps,  years  of  steady 
industry,  and  now  enjoyed  by  some  opulent  mer 
chant,  he  envied  its  possessor.  He  sighed  when  a 
rich  man's  carriage  rolled  by  him  in  the  street. 
Nothing  rare,  or  new,  or  elegant,  gratified  his  eye, 
because  it  was  not  his  own. 

Impelled  by  a  weak  and  selfish  desire  to  be  sud 
denly  rich,  a  few  years  after  he  had  come  to  the 
age  of  manhood,  he  drew  from  the  hands  of  his 
guardian  five  thousand  dollars,  the  hard-earned  and 
carefully  husbanded  treasure  left  him  by  his  father, 
and  threw  himself  with  large  ideas  and  unwavering 
confidence  upon  the  troubled  sea  of  merchandise. 
The  story  of  this  adventure  is  soon  told.  In  two 
years  he  was  compelled  to  wind  up  his  business, 
having  lost  his  entire  capital. 

This  was  a  painful  shock.  But  it  was  of  use  to 
him  in  unsealing  his  eyes,  and  giving  him  a  truer 
view  of  life,  and  soberer  ideas  from  which  to  act. 
Still,  he  could  not  think,  having  once  been. in  busi 
ness  for  himself,  of  falling  back  into  the  monotonous, 
dull,  and  humble  condition  of  a  clerk.  There  was 
something  in  the  fact  of  mingling  with  merchants 
on  a  plane  of  equality,  that  flattered  his  vanity. 
He  had  thus  mingled,  and  thus  felt  flattered.  The 
thought  of  taking  his  old  position,  and  of  losing  the 
courtesies  that  had  been  so  grateful  to  him,  was 
more  than  he  could  think  of  enduring.  This  feel- 


DON'T  BE  DISCOURAGED.  197 

ing  alone,  had  none  other  operated  upon  his  mind, 
would  have  induced  him  again  to  make  an  effort  to 
get  into  business. 

A  few  months  enabled  him  to  so  arrange  his  old 
affairs,  as  to  be  ready  to  go  on  again.  He  found 
numbers  ready  to  sell  him  goods  on  short  credit,  and 
this  determined  him  once  more  to  cast  himself  upon 
the  ocean.  He  did  so.  Two  more  years  passed  on, 
and  at  their  termination  he  found  himself,  alas ! 
again  in  a  narrow  place.  Much  more  than  all  his 
profits  in  that  time  were  locked  up  in  bad  debts,  rem 
nants,  and  unsaleable  goods.  •  For  a  time,  by  bor 
rowing  from  a  few  friends,  he  had  been  enabled  to 
meet  his  payments,  but  that  resource  at  last  failed, 
and  trouble  again  came  upon  him.  But  it  was  a 
worse  trouble  than  before,  and  shocked  his  proud, 
sensitive  feelings  severely.  His  goods  and  accounts, 
after  all  had  been  given  up,  were  not  sufficient  to 
pay  the  claims  against  him.  He  was,  therefore,  an 
insolvent  debtor. 

As  fairy  castles  fade  away  under  the  magician's 
touch,  so  faded  away,  at  this  event,  the  glowing 
ideas  of  wealth  and  splendor  that  had  passed  so 
temptingly  before  the  eyes  of  Henry  Grant.  He 
did  not  now  ask  for  his  tens  of  thousands — his 
country  seats,  glittering  equipages,  and  all  the 
splendid  paraphernalia  attendant  upon  high  station 
in  society,  united  with  immense  wealth.  To  have 
possessed  the  few  thousands  of  dollars  that  were 
exhibited  as  deficits  in  his  accounts,  would  have  com 
passed  his  dearest  wishes.  But  even  this  humble 
and  honorable  desire  was  not  granted.  He  was  in 


198  DON'T  BE  DISCOURAGED. 

debt,  and  what  was  worse,  with  a  sense  of  helpless 
ness  and  hoplessness  added  thereto. 

In  due  course  of  time,  his  business  was  settled  up, 
and  he  again  thrown  upon  the  world.  While  de 
bating  in  his  mind  .the  propriety  of  accepting  an 
offer  from  his  old  employer,  and  entering  his  store 
as  a  clerk,  propositions  were  made  to  him  from  an 
individual  to  accept  a  share  in  hip  business.  He  did 
so  without  consultation  with  any  friend.  The  result 
was  unfavorable.  Scarcely  a  year  had  elapsed,  be 
fore  crash  went  the  whole  concern  about  his  ears. 

It  was  under  the  disheartening  effects  of  this  last 
disaster,  that  we  have  seen  him  laboring.  How  far 
he  had  just  cause  of  despondency,  or  just  cause  to 
suppose  that  the  Fates  were  against  him,  the  reader 
will  be  likely  to  determine  more  wisely  than  he  was 
able  to  do  himself. 

"  Don't  be  discouraged,  Henry !"  said  his  old  em 
ployer  to  him  a  few  days  after  the  conversation  be 
tween  the  young  man  and  Mr.  Linton.  "  You  are 
young  yet.  I  was  thirty-four  when  I  commenced 
my  present  business,  and  you  are  but  twenty-seven. 
Tou  have  seven  years,  therefore,  in  your  favor." 

"  But  I  am  in  debt." 

"How  much?" 

"  Five  thousand  dollars.  '  Or,  if  I  am  to  be  held 
liable  for  my  late  partner's  obligations,  some  twenty 
or  thirty  thousand.  But  I  believe  those  claims  will 
not  come  against  me.  When  I  entered  into  the  co 
partnership,  I  happened  to  be  wise  enough  to  have 
a  clause  inserted  in  the  agreement,  protecting  me 
from  all  prior  obligations  of  my  new  associate  in 
business." 


DON'T  BE  DISCOUKAGED.  199 

"  And  well  for  you  it  is  that  you  did  so.  Five 
thousand  dollars,  then,  is  all  you  owe.  For  your 
comfort,  I  will  tell  you,  that,  at  your  age,  from  im 
prudences  similar  to  your  own,  I  was  ten  thousand 
dollars  in  debt." 

"  And  remained  so  for  seven  years  ?" 

"Yes,  and  for  more  than  that.  It  was  ten  years 
before  I  was  able  to  wipe  off  old  scores." 

"0  dear!  I  should  die  if  I  thought it  would  be  ten 
years  before  I  could  write  myself  free  from  debt." 

"It  is  not  so  easy  a  matter  to  die  as  you  might 
think,"  the  merchant  replied,  smiling. 

"But  what  am  I  to  do?"  asked  Grant,  in  real 
distress  of  mind. 

"  Do  ?  Why  there  are  many  ways  to  do.  All 
that  is  wanted  is  patience  and  resolution ; — not 
mere  excitement, — you  liave  had  enough  of  that. 
You  felt,  six  years  ago,  as  if  you  had  the  world  in 
a  sling.  I  saw  it  all,  and  knew  where  it  would  all 
end." 

"Why  did  not  you  tell,;me  so?" 

"  Because  you  would  not  have  believed  me.  And, 
besides,  'bought  wit  is  best.'  No  experience  like  a 
man's  own !  A  few  years  of  disappointment  and 
trouble  I  saw  would  be  necessary  to  tbresh  off  the 
chaff  of  your  character." 

"And  pretty  well  threshed  I  have  been,  verily! 
But,  to  come  back  to  the  one  question  ever  upper 
most  in  my  mind.  What  am  I  to  do  ?" 

"  There  is  one  thing,  you  can  do,  Henry,"  replied 
the  merchant,  "  and  that  is  to  come  into  my  store 
and  receive  a  salary  of  twelve  hundred  dollars  a 
year." 


200  DON'T  BE  DISCOURAGED. 

"  My  heart  thanks  you  for  your  kind  offer,"  re 
plied  the  young  man  earnestly.  "But,  to  do  so, 
would  be  to  act  from  a  mere  selfish  regard  to  my 
own  interests." 

"How  so?" 

"  The  salary  of  a  clerk  will  yield  simply  a  sup 
port  ; — it  cannot  pay  off  my  debts." 

"You  wish,  then,  to  go  again  into  business?" 

"I  must  do  something  to  relieve  myself  from 
debt." 

"  I  do  not  see,  as  things  now  are,  that  going  into 
business  will  accomplish  this  very  desirable  object. 
So  far,  business  has  only  tended  to  involve  you 
deeper  and  deeper." 

"  I  know  that,  and  it  is  because  of  this,  that  I  am 
so  terribly  disheartened." 

"Then  come  into  my  store,  and  devote  yourself 
for  a  year  or  so  to  my  business.  It  will  yield  you  a 
living.  By  that  time  something  may  open  before 
you.  It  is  time  enough  yet,  depend  upon  it,  for  you 
to  enter  the  arena  of  strife  as  a  merchant.  The 
position  is  one  requiring  a  cooler  head  and  more  ex 
perience  than  you  are  yet  possessed  of.  I  have  long 
since  been  satisfied,  from  extensive  observation,  that, 
as  a  general  rule,  nine  men  out  of.  ten  fail,  who 
enter  into  business  as  merchants,  under  thirty  years 
of  age." 

At  last,  but  with  some  reluctance,  Henry  Grant 
fell  back  into  his  old  place  as  clerk,  where  he  re 
mained  for  four  years.  During  that  period,  early 
painTul  experiences  formed  in  his  mind  a  true  plane 
of  thought.  He  was  enabled  to  see  how  and  where 
he  had  been  in  error,  and  how  wrong  ends  had  led 


DON'T  BE  DISCOURAGED.  201 

him  into  imprudent  acts.  He  could  not,  at  times, 
help  smiling  as  a  recollection  of  former  states  came 
up,  in  which  it  seemed  to  him,  that  he  had  hut  to 
lift  his  hand  and  gather  in  wealth  to  any  extent. 
Then  he  was  eloquent  on  principles  of  architectural 
taste,  and  could  descant  wisely  upon  rural  beauties, 
enhanced  hy  liberal  art.  Nowhere  could  he  find  a 
mansion  either  in  the  city  or  country,  that  fully 
came  up  to  his  ideas  of  what  a  rich  man's  dwelling 
should  be.  But  a  spirit  far  more  subdued  had  now 
come  over  him.  He  could  go  up  into  higher  regions 
of  his  mind,  and  see  there  in  existence  principles 
whose  pure  delights  flowed  not  from  the  mere  grati 
fication  of  selfish  and  sensual  pleasures.  He  was 
made  deeply  conscious,  that  even  with  all  the  wealth, 
and  all  the  external  things  which  wealth  could  give, 
for  the  gratification  of  the  senses,  and  for  the  pam 
pering  of  selfishness  and  pride,  he  could  not  be 
happy.  That  happiness  must  flow  from  an  internal 
state,  and  not  from  any  combination  of  external 
circumstances.  About  this  time  the  oldest  son  ot 
his  employer  arrived  at  his  thirtieth  year.  Up  to 
this  period  he  had,  since  the  attainment  of  his  ma 
jority,  held  an  interest  in  his  father's  business,  which 
regularly  yielded  him  about  two  thousand  dollars 
per  annum.  A  proposition  to  enter  into  business 
with  his  son,  on  a  cash  basis  of  twenty  thousand 
dollars,  and  credit  to  any  reasonable  extent,  was  at 
once  accepted  by  Grant. 

Ten  years  from  that  day  he  was  a  sober-minded 
merchant,  steadily  and  wisely  pursuing  his  business, 
and  worth  every  cent  of  fifty  thousand  dollars. 

"  The  Fates  have  at  last  grown  propitious,"  re- 


202  DON'T   BE    DISCOURAGED 

marked  old  Mr.  Linton  to  him  one  day,  with  a  look 
and  tone  that  was  understood. 

"I  have  only  become  a  wiser  man,  I  presume, 
and  therefore  better  able  to  bear  an  improved  con 
dition,"  was  the  reply  of  Mr.  Grant. 

"Then  you  do  not  now  regret  your  early  disap 
pointments?" 

"  0,  no.  I  am  truly  thankful  that  I  was  not  suf 
fered  to  acquire  wealth  while  under  the  influence  of 
my  vain,  weak  and  foolish  ideas.  My  reverses  were 
blessings  in  disguise.  They  were  sent  as  correctors 
of  evil." 

"That  you  can  now  see  clearly?" 

"  0,  yes.  Had  I  been  allowed  to  go  on  success 
fully,  treasuring  up  wealth,  I  should  have  been  made 
miserable.  My  weak  desires  would  have  been  ever 
in  advance  of  my  abilities.  I  should  have  envied 
those  who  were  able  to  make  a  more  imposing  ap 
pearance  than  myself,  and  despised  all  who  were 
below  me.  And,  surely,  in  this  life,  I  can  imagine 
no  state  so  truly  unhappy  as  that." 

"  He  is  the  wise  man,"  returned  Mr.  Linton, 
"  who  thus,  from  seeming  evil  educes  goood.  The 
longer  we  live,  and  the  more  of  the  ups  and  downs 
of  life  we  see,  the  stronger  becomes  our  conviction 
that  there  is  One  above  all,  and  wiser  than  all,  who 
rules  events  for  our  good.  Between  the  ages  of 
twenty-one  and  thirty  are  usually  crowded  more 
disappointments  and  discouraging  circumstances — 
more  trials  and  pains — than  in  all  a  man's  after'life. 
Will  any  one  who  has  passed  forty  tell  you  in  his 
sober  reflective  moments  that  he  cannot  look  back 
and  see  that  these  have  all  worked  together  for  his 


DON'T  BE  DISCOURAGED.  203 

good  ?  I  think  not.  And  this  will  be  the  case  as 
well  with  him  who  has  grown  rich  as  with  him  who 
still  toils  early  and  late  for  his  daily  bread." 

"  There  is  then,  you  believe,  an  overruling  Provi 
dence  that  has  some  reference  to  a  man's  external 
condition  in  the  world — permitting  one  to  grow  rich, 
and  keeping  another  poor?" 

"I  do.  But  all  this  regards  his  eternal,  and  not 
his  mere  temporal  condition.  Our  mistake  lies  in 
estimating  the  dealings  of  Providence  as  referring 
particularly  to  our  external  condition.  This  is  not 
the  case.  We  are  regarded  with  a  love  that  looks 
to  our  higher  and  better  interests — to  our  spiritual 
and  eternal  good.  External  things,  because  it  is  by 
these  that  we  are  most  affected,  are  so  governed,  as 
to  lead  us  to  think  of  interior  things  that  appertain 
to  the  life  within — to  that  life  which  we  are  to  live 
when  separated  from  the  body.  It  matters  not  how 
blindly  we  are  pursuing  a  course  in  which  we  are 
determined  to  succeed — the  Great  Ruler  and  Gover 
nor  of  all  things  will  obstruct  our  way,  if  that  way 
leads  to  our  spiritual  obstruction,~and  it  is  possible 
to  turn  us  in  a  better  way.  Too  often  it  happens 
that  men  are  allowed  to  go  on  in  evil  courses,  be 
cause,  if  turned  from  them,  they  would  pursue  after 
more  direful,  soul-destroying  evils." 

"  If  this  lesson  could  only  be  received  by  us,  and 
fully  believed  when  we  first  enter  upon  life,  how 
many  bitter  hours  of  discouragement  it  would  save 
us,"  replied  Mr.  Grant,  with  feeling.  "  But  ex 
perience  is  the  only  sure  teacher.  "We  only  know 
what  we  have  lived." 


I 


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